The future is history

Darkness screams
The pit-bulls glare
As throngs of undead
Tear out their hair

Evil collapses on hope 
As tight as a  vice 
The start of living
like vermin; lice

At the wall of blood and teeth
Men weep. Murder had.
eternal sleep
The face erased
Happy replaced by sad. 

The streets are empty
Only there live ghosts 
The lost, the weary, 
plus the dread the mind doth host 
Penetrates
At the soul
Gnawing 
Grinding
Gnashing
At the nape of Father Time
Epileptic thrashings
Of treasonous crimes

Torture to the deaf, blind,
And the zombies without minds
Cast the shadow over Mother Earth.
Hell Eclipsed! Lips, hips and chest-tips ripped. 
The moon boiled from behind.

They see only void; space
A dead and desolate place
Coffins line the dusty halls
On them chunks of ceiling fall
Stars explode 
The brain erodes
From the piercing light
Projections of dejection 
Unfold and behold:

A negative, irrational, universal
Comatose birth-reversal
And all that was
Ceased to be
A never-ending Epoch
Of apocalyptic misery
An altered future
Hung.
Dead as history.