The Coming

It is coming
Slowly, gradually
But as sure as
The next
Dawn rises
On the
Eastern horizon
Something bad
Comes this way.
Beware of the
Calm, before
The
Storm.


The pitiful screams
From the abattoirs
Of those
Born in the
Genetic labs
Have reached a
Crescendo
The chimeras
Rebel.
Beware of the
Calm, before
The
Storm.


The multitudinous
Spewed from the
Wombs for
Reasons, unknown
Gasp and splutter
Starve, cry and
Bewail their
Forced, wretched
Existence.
Beware of the
Calm, before
The
Storm.


The earth’s withered
Veins
Sucked dry
Of its
Black blood, now
Yields silence
And engines cease
To a grinding
Whine.
Beware of the
Calm, before
The
Storm.


The Black Rhino snorts
The Tiger laughs
The beagle
Smokes his last
And deep
In the mountains
Of Cameroon
The gorilla sleeps
Gently in the night.
Beware of the
Calm, before
The
Storm.