Twelve days into the month,
Storming in like the lion does,
It had come to me
That once was enough.
But it was soon prevalent,
Unavoidable, undeniable
That a bigger cat
Was on the hunt.
My guarantees : ulterior
My money: inferior
My narrative: anterior
Not one man to blame.
Cast from a dark old spell,
Created from wizardly hell,
The lightning fell
And the thunder never came.
Cases of disease in growth,
Deemed a crisis from henceforth,
Yet I haven’t felt a thing.
Long ago—yet similarly before—
I was alone.
What’s the matter with more?
But it was soon prevalent,
Unexpected, unprecedented,
That these empty streets
Was a hesitant feat.
The game, I missed,
Life ceased to exist,
Every road to the abyss,
Not one man to blame.
Cast from a dark old spell,
Created from wizardly hell,
The lightning fell
And the thunder never came.
The lightning comes and goes with a flash,
I see it everywhere.
The lightning hits like whiplash,
Yet I don’t feel it anywhere.
No one knows when the thunder is near
Cause no one will hear it, I fear.
No one knows when the thunder is here
Cause no one will feel it, I fear.
The good and great things
In life come to an end.
It’s only moral and justified,
That evil in life
Surrenders its hide.
A time of frustration,
Everyone in relation,
Transfers in patience—
To elation...
A time of anticipation,
Every eye in dilation,
Every engine of creation,
I guide my focus to the revelation...
I guide my focus to the revelation.
Kristian Zenz