The world is on fire,

having simmered too long,

unable to cut off the fuel that drives

the hate, that steers and directs

the dislike and blows it up, makes mole

hills burst like Vesuvius, Earth tired worms

claw at the air and interesting times

are back in vogue once more.

 

The world is on fire, screaming

out injustice whilst having no plan

to purge those that place a spark

of Lucifer against the black sparkling dust,

extreme dislike turns to detest

turns to repulsion, turns the hatred clock

yet another dial onwards, a second closer

to complete disgust, yet we do nothing

but fan the flames, hatred never goes

out of fashion.

 

The world, fire, the bonfire of vanity

straddling the lame, discharging

hatred seed and detonating

each bridge built upon fertile land;

whilst I wait in an open field,

surrounded by flowers of my younger

more hippy like days, as the petals

burn as you add more fuel

to the ashes,

after all,

hate is always in style.

 

Ian D. Hall 2016