Aftermath

What's behind the door?
A prize or something more
Serious. You're all too hungry
And somewhat delirious

To know what's best.

A solstice soul survival test.
Tired and waiting for relief.
When it comes, it's as a thief:
Preachy, plundering premonition.

We all display a deep contrition,
Yet nothing's managed up to now.
By every means we have avowed
A leader to live and tell us how.

A prophet gives us what to give.
Yet, Interlopers will always be
Doubting without sympathy.
Barging in to change the channel.

Let's just see what's behind the panel.
So far, we've moved along in faith,
Lacking love though less of hate.
Droning on devoid of hope.

Where there's a beam, there hangs a rope.
All at once, or dribbly drab.
Brand New Coke instead of TaB
Fills the glass with nothing much.

We've poisoned all there is to touch.
Perhaps it's best by what we've made,
We follow suit and begin to fade.
Close the book and put away
The faint twilight that hopes the day.


9/17/26
ZONE S5E7