That was the age of despair, disrepair
but this is now, the New Utopia.

That was the time when we killed off our muses
throwing their remains to the ravenous dogs.

Our innocence disemboweled, our hopes quartered
with five hollow-point bullets on that cold december night.

When six million replaced six six six as the accursed number
of all eternity and
six million nameless faces, six million faceless names
were extinguished for that greatest crime of all -
Existence.

But this is now, the Neo-Utopia.

That was the age of despair, disrepair
When raven-black sun
threw rays of shadow upon the earth and
giant bullfrogs ate pygmy antelopes
hooves, bones and all.

But still we fought on, hoping for meaning to appear
yet when it arrived, it was only in our dreams
dissipating as soon as we awoke and tried to grab at its
gossamer threads with our crude, clumsy hands.

And this is now, the Last Utopia.

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...