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Long since, Cassandra-like, we cried, “Beware!”
– withstood the scorn of purblind men until
an internecine sky confirmed our fears
in shattered homes and blood.

What boots it then to recapitulate
the fate of empires – Persian, Roman, Greek –
the fall of Troy – when, yet emergent from
the belly of our social tolerance,
a God-forsaking admass thrives on greed,
misguided Greenham Common cranks abound,
while other left-wing dupes, with strikes
and pipe-dreams of a Red Utopia,
still propagate the seeds of their, and our,
demise.

An epicyclic loop in Time, encompassing
all nations’ rise and fall, has set
the locus of our destiny beyond its crucial point –
a destiny a miracle alone could change.

What purpose serve to prophesy precisely when
Big Brother’s work, well done, will consummate
his plan? But programmed for what well might be
their last terrestrial ride, the awesome four
Apocalyptic Horsemen wait.

And Hitler’s soul, exceedingly amused,
in Hell will split its sides.

T. C. Hudson.

© T. C. Hudson.

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