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Great Writing - Home > Poetry > Immaculate Fœtus, Part I
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Poetry
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| Immaculate Fœtus, Part I | |
| By Matthiasrising | ||||||||
| 27 February 2008 | ||||||||
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Part of a series I wrote a couple years ago. A discussion of existentialism gave way to this one. Kind of. Have you heard the news today? The critics are today’s philosophers. The headlines are in, They say God is dead! Have you heard the news today? God is dead. The little girl in the street spoke, But what of fate? She cried a river of tears, Drowned in a sea of hope. Across the ocean is a land, The incense burns in front of the gate, Inside the temple a boy prays To the horned god of rain. He throws the coin and hopes For water upon his daddy’s field. The eyes shift across a vast expanse, Moving over hills to a building, Entirely cold inside metal gates. A skeleton rests chained by the arms, Hanging from the dusty gray wall, Ancient blood lies on the concrete floor. It is all the same. Have you hear the news today?
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