It might rain

Rain today, or tomorrow or next

The skies will dim and bow

To gods long dead since science vexed

Hexagonal raindrops now

Love replaced by lover’s wrath

Facsimile smiles pinned tight

Individualist bones and cancer breath

Truth awash in light

Where to turn with gods all fallen

Demons run the ramp

Tilting tower’s megaphone morals

The lady, the no-one, the tramp

Soul selling black gold digging

These the harbingers of fairness?

A trap surely for those

of plastic mores and woes

Apart they mean to tear us

Divide and skewer lie and loan

In pablum bliss we die alone

But virtuous slime to grease the crime

In domicide we moan

Please send rain oh gods of old

Clean us our contempt

live in man alive and bold

Anew begin our descent