Whimper
by Scott Thomas Outlar

The apocalyptic storm started to run off at the mouth
with a firecracker blitzkrieg of gluttony
coming to the shoreline with a crashing black wave
frothing at the lips with poison foam
ready and willing to spit copper plated bullets
into the heart of a nuclear explosion
trashing the core of love with wicked intentions
thrashing around a gilded cage in vengeance
calling out the angels for a game of chicken
little do they know that peace is a cheat
lie, trick and steal to get what it needs
builds an avalanche of meltdown fever
molten magma crusade kept in back pocket
pull it like a knife and cut the crown
stabbed right in the eye to crush the beam
withered ancient vines suffocate upon atrophy’s touch
anti-Midas sentiments unto the grave
where jealousy dances atop the plot without remorse
cancer-coated candy carried in a bag…