FOR THOSE WHOM THE BELLS ARE TOLLING...

The acid rains have come and gone

Leaving nuclear winters chasing

Puple autumns of our lives.

Dying bones, wrapped in parched skins,

Silhouette the inept horizons

Of the desert's edge.

Famine, the silent emissary of death,

Carpets the naked altar of life:

Hunger tutoring the sacrifical lambs;

While in the shadows and hues of distant dawns,

Ships sail to the moons, leaving behind death

Smiling at the evil that men do.