The Revelation

12.12.16

The Revelation

Last time it came in waves
of screams slipping into depths
immeasurable, darkness smothering
hope and hate, love and larceny—no
matter—only slow rocking time
remaining beneath a darkened sky.

Then, a promise of fire, bright orange,
suns exploding, the moon bloody, always
more blood, the sacrifice of innocents,
foolish lambs led to slaughter by wolves
rising out of the northern winter,
all promises forgotten—or misremembered—
the abomination of desolation at last revealed.

Still, hope clings to flotsam carried on rivers
of fire, the rapture’s final embrace carrying
them to the promised land of gnashing teeth.

— Bill Stifler, 2016

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