This Is not the End

    And here we were, tied to them, hands behind our back, face down in the dirt. Streams of snot blown from our nose. Tied to the turncoat betrayals, to the obstructionist shareholders burning down the house, to the controlling voices parroting Nazi slogans and championing collective punishment against American citizens.

    Can you imagine it? See it solid? Feel the binding cuffs cinched tight and the ball gag shoved deep? Suck it. Our adrenaline, their Adderall. Our conscience – trampled. Overruled. We ain’t doin’ that constitutional, due process shit anymore.

    Sell and buy. Bought and sold. All there for the taking. Soulless. They have no doctrine of American poverty. They don’t build. They don’t create. Buy and sell. Trading up Turning and selling out. Ruled by moneylenders and creditors. Exactors and tyrants.

    Our supplication, our salvation burning through the burring chemical fumes and acrid haze. Our eyes plucked out bloody and thrown down. More missiles fill the sky. Chaos and housing complexes collapsing.

    What’s the problem here? What’s the warfare now? Encircled and besieged at the outer edge of hell with klaxons and alarums every night. Degradation without catharsis. We are living among the dead on the red line limit while the war machine throttles through urban streets.

    Righteous Branch and Jesse’s Rod, Son of Man and Son of God, where are the shining lights? Where is the rising brightness? The hope of glory? Where is the Morning Star of Dawn?

    All these things must come to pass. Do not ask for an end. This is not the end