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The End of Your Reign


You
will
all of your makers
meet...
for making a world of
diaspora
a chronic tired world of war,
refugees,
and endless suffering
human misery.

Karma waits for you
thundering on the other side...
there is no place for You
to hide...
You will not even become
an ant
nor a microbe
nor the dreaded genocide
of a plague-like disease.

You will inherit the
grandeur of
none of these.

Your Gods shall make of you
the most despised and
Your meddlesome mud will be as
He and She doth please
and surmise.

You will be
immovable fragments
unless kicked,
picked up, tossed
then thrown...
You shall be pebbles
for your hearts of stone.

You will feel nothing,
and not know true human touch,
not even the bitter hatred of men...
You will not feel its brush
rush by You.

You will be transformed
into the rubble You
made of others lives.

Barely contemplated
a fate much worse
for You
for fear was your prize...
and a dependency on life's
grand ferocity and hatred
pulled You through...
It was once the rare stuff
which made You
live and breathe:

And now You all will
be dubbed and deemed...
" unmanly for the
fact of Your trampling down of
the earth and all of humanity
while fooling Yourselves into
thinking you are the betters
of everyone and everything.*"

So now where Is
Your puny crown?

Your Gods now
rise high above You
and they are
laughing.



^*Paraphrased reference to
a Mahatma Gandhi quotation.
May He be blessed wherever He is.
"Be the change in the world you want to see."

Melissa A Howells
Meloo Tilt-a-World
Copyright August 26, 2013
All Rights Reserved By
this Author

4am on a sleepless night





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