Second Coming of Godzilla

Second Coming of Godzilla
© Surazeus
2018 04 16

I ride my bike to the library hall
and climb through weeping window in the wall
to steal a thousand words from dreaming books
that bloom like flowers by clear babbling brooks.

The weight of history in their writhing words
clutters my heart with agonizing stones
since my ancestors invaded this land
and killed the people living in these woods.

I find their skulls buried in unmarked graves
so I dig them up and look in their eyes
to hear the whisper of their names in wind
and see the visions of their dreaming minds.

I mold words from the stories of their lives
in puppets of clay I dig from stream shore
and breathe the spirit of hope so they play
dramas of their desires before they died.

They spring to life with grasping hands of clay
and grab me by the arms to pull me down,
and though I struggle to escape their fears
we sink into the world and disappear.

I claw through ten thousand years of cracked skulls,
devouring the rotten brains of their souls,
then break through shell of the Earth like a snake
and destroy ten thousand cities in rage.

Though Eliot and Pound try to tame my rage
I smash the Twin Towers with fists of lost faith
and spit steel bullets at children in schools
whose blood soaks the land sea to turgid sea.

"Since you prayed for God to return," I roar,
I am the Second Coming of Godzilla,
so sacrifice yourself to my bloodlust,
for I pollute the world with toxic waste."