when the last laugh is over
and when the last laugh is over
who’s face will wear the grin,
as shoulders rest and eyes dry
and waiting sadness nears begin,
and when the last laugh is over
who’s world will crumble down,
as we sink back into the softness
of a world with pale surround.
there’s a drought that has ravaged this plain
we are but withered crops that nestle in arid, parched soil,
above us trail the blur of vultures, their cold eyes surveying
and hands lose their grip as loved ones watch us sink, drown.
there’s a famine that has crippled this once verdant land
we are but livestock dying in droves; lean pastures soon gone,
an overcast magnolia hue, a gentle spray of light dispersed
cradled soft, held in the tumultuous arms of austere comfort.
there’s a blindness that has fumbled its way across a time zone
feet never touched the ground, natives eyes never met nor tongues mirrored,
just a quick and rapid decent, a truce of wills that dies lay prone
the final act is viewed in tearful waves from a long dead flag.
there’s a storm cloud raging over the new horizon
a black rain that permeates the souls of a once great race,
washing away a jewel that has long shone to shores distant and far
now the ants dwell directionless, viewed and noted as fingers rap upon the glass of the formicary.
and now the last laugh is done
my face has no smile,
the treachery of my existence
compliments nothing but the banal,
I lived beyond my means
and I died before death,
I’ve sank back into the softness
the world of pale surround.
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