Reality is the Irregularity of the Past.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

The Day of The Drone

This Day is growing for the serving drones;

The time of empty homes and worry stones.

Apollo’s ember now burns here colder,

Ragged by Hephaestus’ icy hammer

Humanity’s renowned virtue belies Hope,

Vanity, ousted by a crueler note.

Rung from the un-tuned Bell Tower,

And hung from gallows in the Arty Bower!

Death’s gentle irony affixed pleasure—

Let the Meek take the lead measure;

The hive is ridden of plastic followers,

The Queen has died; the nest is hollow-er.

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