Things Are Now Worsening Poem by DM W

Shadows consume the sun
As it fades behind these trees.
Eternity bows
Down to relativism,
In diminished times.
O true forms cannot seem to
Be distinguished from
That which is merely cant and
Vanity! There is
Too much noise here to pray or
Meditate. There is
No hope of a miracle,
Emerging in spring,
Like snow white blossomed magic.
The symbolic light
Is merely a candle flame,
Briefly resisting
Darkness. The wise, ancient ways
Are now in ruins
There is only desperate
Grasps at crude, tribal
Longings via icons, flags,
T-shirts or other
Cut price souvenirs.
Garish neon signs
Flood life's endless, dead -end streets.
In the midst of this
Confusion. I try my best
To compose something
Of worth. Alas, Time is not
On my side it seems;
Neither is circumstance.