A love invoked at the stroke of midnight,
It is without the burden of expectations
Which sully mortal relationships.
How do I expect anything from you, my love,
When you fail anyone
Who is mad enough to
Put faith in your wretched cusp?
You remind me of my futile dream
(Many a life form ago),
When I prayed for Pangea
So it doesn't break into seven -
So that I don't break into Seven and become
The one who must not be named.
How can I abhor you, my love,
When you are the same dream on paper -
A suicidal cult of cultures
Signing a doomed nuptial
To love each other
And live in peace.
And yet you hate peace,
You hate each other,
You pray to your false God/s
And buy absolution
Like your leaders buy you
With false pretenses.
You cannot distinct between
The greater evil and the last straw.
You mislead your children,
You kill your Abels.
Your morbid stupidity threatens to
bring out the father in me,
A suicidal empathy that I can only
Wrench myself away from
When one of you rape a blossoming infant or two.
You do make it easy to abhor you:
Your compass-less libidos,
Your terrorizing news outlets,
Your subliminal advertisements,
Your desensitized soaps,
Your rotting minds,
Your fascist votes,
Your obsession with language, food, film stars and who can and cannot enter your house (of God)
Please shut up, my love,
And start your goddamn war!