4643. ZERO FOR THE HERO

ZERO FOR THE HERO
The hour has finally come - when the nightbirds
are singing and the midnight flames are lit. We must
be on our way. A few people, sitting around a table,
cannot plan a revolution. What passes for equality these
days goes for nothing at all and all is one big heap instead.
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Cufflinks and finger rings? A cigarette holder in solid gold?
What kind of peasants are these? The lead...er came and went
in less than five minutes : he mangled a phrase or two, and
ran off. I witnessed him picking his teeth. How gauche?
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Run away with me instead. Who needs the violence and
the deep blue pain and loss? There's nothing to salvage;
skyscrapers and reflective glass, like this pale plan for
uprise and anarchy, are really all the modern age reveres.
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Father forgive me, for I have sinned.
I murdered 14,000 in His name.