Warlord sits on the stone loop of my heart
He waves his dirty hand in my face
singing hallelujah.

Warlord is like a clock ticking,
the seconds pop like brilliant bombs,
laying waste to the enemies of our past
and our future.

He is my rage,
whittling sticks into knives,
drawing a bow and grasping
weapons of the new gods.
No longer steel blades
but metal bullets
faster than superman
superman is dead now.

We have no heroes only warlords.
We see green greed, University greed,
corporate greed, land greed
leaders rotted to the roots
educators dried out from
diverged rivers.

My stone heart tossed 
shatters against the hard
earth of a dry riverbed
as the warlord rages on
singing hallelujah
all the way home.

Wee wee wee wee. 

He's left me
with nothing 
like he always has.