Prophet/Seer

The war goes on. A war is coming here.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know what to do.

There is no prophet. There is no seer.

 

A young couple, hipsters, with a baby daughter.

A happy family.

A happy family.

Soon this town will be washed under water.

 

I watch the city lights; how long will they burn?

My home has never welcomed me.

My home has never welcomed me.

We are monkey smarts that only know to burn.

 

She sits beside me, as I stop in front of her house.

She touches my face.

She touches my face.

She is the flesh of the word and love I espouse.

 

She sits besides me, the angel I rely on.

She holds my hand.

She holds my hand.

She sits beside me, and we make another dawn.

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