Demon Days (a poem)

I want to be endless
But there’s no time left for us:
Doomsday Clocks near midnight
In moonlit nights of loathing

Dystopian futures show me ways
We all go astray, if we don’t
Stick to narrow paths and submit
To the will of God’s frenzied crying

Look, nuclear missiles are flying
High over our heads, lighting up
Blackened skies and bringing great
Yellow-orange color to our eyes

Somehow, we knew it would end this way
Despite our naiveté, snug in gated
Communities, away from street-level
Struggle, hustles and bustles,
Waiting for demon days.

Author’s Note: The first line of this poem is from Lia Purpura’s poem “Solitude.”

(Photo from Wikimedia Commons – Vera Boldt: “Heftiges Erröten”)