Armageddon

By Albert Goodwin [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

You run trenches

inside me

and I duck and I run

but nothing can hide me.

Can I find a way

around these spiked

wires and walls

and not be taken

by the rush of rapids

right down the waterfalls?

It's a lonely place

here with the bullies

that try to cast me in their mold

and swing me around by their pulleys.

I see you

in the dust and debris

and it's the same place

where you see me.

We watched cities

crumble to dust

and vultures chewing

our flesh like crust.

With the flesh hanging there

and my guts exposed,

I try to act like nothing happened

and stay composed.

When you do the right thing

and still lose, you chase

dream after dream

but it's still the same race.

You take the punch

and it makes you grin.

You try to fight back

but you just get punched again.

You're looking like mince meat

more black than blue

but you're used to it by now

you know what they do.

Now you invite it

for a chance to see guts

like you're on a rampage

and everyone thinks you're nuts.

They only see point B

they missed point A.

They think you started there

when you joined the fray.

You've got to go to the lab

and sort out the details.

You take the higher ground

and leave the field full of entrails.

I'm impaled

like a victim of Count Drac.

They nailed Jesus to a Cross

and said he came back.

Pilate washed his hands,

Jesus washed Peter's feet,

and maybe that's why

Jesus came back complete.

But if we come back

there will be hell to pay.

Hell hath no fury like a man

like me on payday.

Now I run the trenches

right straight through you,

blowing magic dust in the air

like some kind of Voo-Doo.