'.neocities.org/despair.html

Moss's Lament

A crude form of art therapy, chracterized by additions to an ominous poem.

The formula is simple, the rigidity providing cold comfort. Six lines at a time, eight syllables per line, ABABAB rhyme scheme. Speak of death, despair, useless hope, the end of the world, all that troubles you and more. The last two lines are a cry for help that will not be answered.

14JUL2024
By day or night, by sun or moon,
or vicious light of Party's Fall.
We see our future, coming soon,
The day fair Death will claim us all.
Pray, break thy vow and and wrap thy Hand,
'round throat of unforgotten man!

06NOV2024
We showed you how the deck was made,
And still you trusted us to turn.
No gods, no saints, will change our grade.
We kill, we steal, we will not learn.
Were I to pray, I'd pray just once:
Turn flame we wield, to wielder burn.