Poezja

If the rape of the child continues
Unfettered by the workings of will
The collapse of Rome is sure to come
Along with the incessant repugnation
Of each and every stimuli
That comes creeping over the wall
To touch the solemn creep
 
If the rape of the child continues
Blue wounds will turn to blackened hell
Egregious manifestations of calling
Will become abhorrent realms of dread
And insuffalated terror will reign supreme
Over the lords of tomorrow’s high noon
 
If the rape of the child continues
We will have on our hands
An untouchable adult, torn
Between the waking hours of dream
And the night terrors of years lost
 
If the rape of the child continues
The love will be lost
And I will surely…live