Apocalypsoid
Be not afraid of a sickle cell wielder
who tolls a disjoint time
on the fourth watch.
For in the marian mirror
a woman rises before the sun.
Her hands dial the sundance at the zenith.
Malachy's last eclipse foreshadows
what the third assassin triggered
from an evanescent half-moon pastor
to a fully eclipsed final father.
One heart bleeds
one heart unstained
twelve stars dance the firmament.
The seat of Peter is emptied
in the night of the right thief.
The prophet's worst is a planet cursed
by winter's harvest son.
Our new holocaust seeps unheralded again
lest we forget what we have yet
to comprehend:
world without,
end.
