BBC News at Ten

I see it. Something ominous
diffusing in the air.

Like death demolishing the heroism of a young soldier
in a foreign country- fighting foreign men.

Like fear or excitement sparking in a toddler’s eyes
as life’s beginning turns out to be its end.

Like a teen’s punishment for being a girl
in a far-off country where cruel deities reign.

Is this some sort of malediction pinning my limbs to the ground - keeping my eyes wide open
as if with a pair of pegs?

I see it. Clear as day.
Noah’s ark will soon leave for Mars
having saved no one and done nothing to help man.
Did we fly too close to the sun or did the sun throw itself on us like bombs thrown on people and ants alike in the Middle East?

I do not know.
All I know is that this scarlet “I” is for ignorance
scorched onto our foreheads- piercing through our brains.
We bleat and moo towards the cliff watching our fates displayed in full HD crystal balls in some politician’s hands.

I see it and I sit still
as God packs his bags and prepares
to leave.

I say to myself: “This is a poem.
you have done something.”
God laughs at my folly
before he shuts the door
and quits on Earth.