tomorrow is an improbability now.

In this dark nation
so obsessed with empire.

Everyone knows
from reading the Bible or History
that the legacy of Empire
is dust.

But the deluded and the authoritative leaders
still utter the gamblers mantra,
"this time different, this time lucky."
Meanwhile, in secret laboratories
where they synthesize the toxins of the future

transgenic mice die in their cages
their mass extinction heralding a doom
that goes unnoticed, eliciting neither
reaction or response.

Is a long night coming?
Does there creep across the land
a suffocating silken blackness
darker than the Devil's shadow
and heavier than mountains?

What do I know?
I can still recognize the moon
in the foul cloudy sky.
What care I for tomorrow?
What care I that Grace evades me?
Retribution may come tomorrow
but tomorrow is an improbability now.