Futility I say
Cornucopia horn shows gray.
Humanity's uncertain way.
The hour glass spills the hour,
Swallows up the gains of power.
And time gobbles up each display,
Dreams and fantasies waft away.
The violent, bland, the good, the bad.
The loving, the happy, the sad.
I curse the maw, the exit door.
The end of life, then nothing more.
I curse the genesis of new.
I curse apocalypse the coup.
To sharp the blend, the bend, the vend.
But I know not, a better end.