Now is the Hour
"Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life."
William Faulkner
Have you ever seen a warship? Not one of the sea but,
a fleet of more than a hundred machines.
Broken silence above what you perceive on the day to day.
Shadows of your future as it wastes away.
The crunch beneath the soles of my boots... such a contrast,
to the pervasive silence after the Hundred Bomb blasts.
I've never known the depths of the abyss until today.
My Earth, an organic cemetery where billions lay.
My first authentic psychological influence... such imprudence:
the image of filling graves. Visions of real decay, obscene.
Any sleep achieved is filled with dreams of wielding blades
fending off legions of demons screeching prophecy:
"this land is destined to be sieged by fiends and noxious beasts!"
It seems... more than a nightmare,
of course I am quite scared... then I awake.
The sun shines brightly, the suburbs rise quickly.
Father's on his commute. Mother's pouring me juice.
Descending the stairs from my bedroom to the kitchen.
News reports about impending doom and conscription.
I've always hated school, but to witness
such panic in the air. Such ambition
from the youth, now seems frantic with despair.
The President speaks, his message complete
with false hopes and propaganda as everyone weeps.
Such a surreal time. Such disorder despite the grind...
unceasing, as people proceed to their nine to fives.
I suppose the times are blind to the change,
until the change manifests and ignites in your face.
It seems... more than a nightmare,
of course I am quite scared... then I should awake?
Alarms blaring: "Fifteen minutes until curfew.
Please return to your homes."
It's hard sharing electricity and water with the entire neighborhood.
My best friend's family insists that they are staying put.
But most of the community has up and just left.
Abandoned house and home before the FEMA infrastructure was set.
I've read stories about marshal law without discussions of threats...
just ambiguous rhetoric from the government, yet...
The evidence amounts: armed soldiers? Incredible accounts
of families missing without a mention or a doubt.
Inevitable? Maybe... some academics had warned
in obscure internet journals about mass eugenics, and of course,
only a month later... reports surfaced of battalions mobilizing,
bomb blasts in the distance, accounts of global violence.
And yet it seems like more than a nightmare.
I used to be quite scared.
But reality is like a bucket of freezing water,
poured over your head, physicality is rediscovered.
Then the first mechanized gate was installed and locked.
Roads used to signify freedom, now all were blocked.
"Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life."
William Faulkner
Have you ever seen a warship? Not one of the sea but,
a fleet of more than a hundred machines.
Broken silence above what you perceive on the day to day.
Shadows of your future as it wastes away.
The crunch beneath the soles of my boots... such a contrast,
to the pervasive silence after the Hundred Bomb blasts.
I've never known the depths of the abyss until today.
My Earth, an organic cemetery where billions lay.
My first authentic psychological influence... such imprudence:
the image of filling graves. Visions of real decay, obscene.
Any sleep achieved is filled with dreams of wielding blades
fending off legions of demons screeching prophecy:
"this land is destined to be sieged by fiends and noxious beasts!"
It seems... more than a nightmare,
of course I am quite scared... then I awake.
The sun shines brightly, the suburbs rise quickly.
Father's on his commute. Mother's pouring me juice.
Descending the stairs from my bedroom to the kitchen.
News reports about impending doom and conscription.
I've always hated school, but to witness
such panic in the air. Such ambition
from the youth, now seems frantic with despair.
The President speaks, his message complete
with false hopes and propaganda as everyone weeps.
Such a surreal time. Such disorder despite the grind...
unceasing, as people proceed to their nine to fives.
I suppose the times are blind to the change,
until the change manifests and ignites in your face.
It seems... more than a nightmare,
of course I am quite scared... then I should awake?
Alarms blaring: "Fifteen minutes until curfew.
Please return to your homes."
It's hard sharing electricity and water with the entire neighborhood.
My best friend's family insists that they are staying put.
But most of the community has up and just left.
Abandoned house and home before the FEMA infrastructure was set.
I've read stories about marshal law without discussions of threats...
just ambiguous rhetoric from the government, yet...
The evidence amounts: armed soldiers? Incredible accounts
of families missing without a mention or a doubt.
Inevitable? Maybe... some academics had warned
in obscure internet journals about mass eugenics, and of course,
only a month later... reports surfaced of battalions mobilizing,
bomb blasts in the distance, accounts of global violence.
And yet it seems like more than a nightmare.
I used to be quite scared.
But reality is like a bucket of freezing water,
poured over your head, physicality is rediscovered.
Then the first mechanized gate was installed and locked.
Roads used to signify freedom, now all were blocked.
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