Death's Funeral

At the end of the 21st century
when science overcame decay,
the cycle of life reversed,
the Grim Reaper was dead.
Behold the new Gods,
new bodies changed like clothes -
the fearless post-human race began.
New predators emerged - driven by sheep, powered by dirt.
In deserts of need - kings of rats, lords of the new breed.
No children, no laughter
playgrounds – abandoned
lullabies – redundant
reason – outnumbered
avarice – abundant
humanity ever after.
The new age has begun,
the final chapter is done -
a plague of locusts
as dusk embraces the sun.



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