Blood Dead Chrysanthemums

The beautiful, yet plausible Earth primary function conjoins the spirit of all mankind.

But, the arrogant and tempered men of tomorrows future

continue to interfere and remove themselves from the natural order of things perfect.

Men and societies of tomorrow burn of an arrogant mind,

and as they turn, turn, and swim in their dead ocean; perfect chrysanthemums cry

dead earth. The reality of the inconvenient truth of dark skies cater to

subterranean days, and in turn usher in the hunger –

where the lands of tomorrow await a new dawning revolution

revolt – denoting – for some sense of logical nourishment.

Each and every year before the so called rapture of day’s end,

the first day of each spring sang the weeping required willows,

and more than a millennium of nourishment in the arms of Zionistic cults –

planted an end to the wonderment of a new seasons.

The new Earth, the Blood Dead Chrysanthemums, and the old Earth Age

sing songs of endless torment, the songs only few identify to be true.

The field of unsleeping things – relating to the quiescent anthesis

of screaming and neglected flowers – in addition to plant producing food;

scream a universe of doubt, and generations of the proud and damned

anticipate anonymously a premature atomic death.

Photo Credit: Alfonso Coley -- Copyright Reserved

May use this image upon request via email response