Now is not the time to weep

For there will be a better time to weep

When the fires run out of things to devour

And the waters run out of people to drown

Then there will be a time to regret

Our words unspoken

Or rather, words unheard



But now, in this carpet of acid rain

Amid this stifling heat

We march on

Like soldiers to their graves

Without fear

In the murderous dark