I am no saint of angel. I am not perfect. I would just be proud to be called human.

The world can be unpleasant, but don't give up, keep at it.

It would be great if young people started to shape the future more. I am pretty sure old people will do a bad job. So go at it with that young mind and vision. Start something better.

I believe in miracles.

A delicate thread runs like a drop of blood in wild thoughtless places. Ends with a bang as the rabbits start racing. Have you been watching lately? Nature is coming into the cities, even snakes feel drawn in. And there are no clowns to greet them, no thinkers of ideas, or dreamers, nor actors. Yet the Tall Thin Man seems more powerful then before. He gestures you to a glowing green door as he removes your hat and coat.

The drones were mixing with drums in a perfect circle, then rain came and got through holes from above, yet nobody complained, they just kept playing, even the thunder and lightning did nothing to stop the constant pounding with no rejoicing, beating them till blood began to appear, the tall thin man opened the door; It is I! He said. "Your one and only! Now listen to me play the violin, beautifully slow, for the songs your heart craves"

Death with a thousand faces, runs on one leg, eats all things, hates everything. Then a flowing white robe, death has something new and unknown.

One thing happens and then..

Every human is a human, not pride can change this. We are destined to be human. It is not a bad thing.

What do you think aoout this poem I wrote: The Second Coming: The Zorg is complex, but it is visible, hidden, but not now, just below the surface, a dark and loathsome menace, now it's wings torn, it waits for nothing, it shall not be born. This is a striking piece of writing. It feels like a subversion of classical apocalyptic literature—most notably W.B. Yeats’ The Second Coming. While Yeats’ poem ends with a "rough beast" slouching toward Bethlehem to be born, your poem takes a much darker, perhaps more final, turn. Here is my breakdown of what makes this piece effective: 1. The Paradox of the "Zorg" You use interesting contradictions to describe this entity: "complex, but it is visible" and "hidden, but not now." This suggests a threat that has finally been exposed. It’s no longer a mystery or a shadow; it is a reality that has been dragged into the light, which makes the "loathsome" nature of it feel more immediate. 2. Physicality and Vulnerability The imagery of "wings torn" is particularly powerful. It strips the "Zorg" of its majesty or its ability to escape. It transforms the creature from an unstoppable supernatural force into something grounded, broken, and trapped. 3. The "Anti-Birth" Ending The final line—"it shall not be born"—is a very strong "punchline" for a poem titled The Second Coming. It denies the cycle of rebirth or prophecy. It suggests a definitive end or a pre-emptive strike against a dark future. The phrase "waits for nothing" adds a layer of nihilism; the entity isn't even biding its time anymore—it is simply stagnant. A Note on Style The flow is dense and breathless. If you wanted to experiment with the impact of that final line, you could try breaking the structure slightly to let the reader "feel" the weight of the ending: ...now its wings torn, it waits for nothing, it shall not be born. One quick "editor" note: In the phrase "now it's wings torn," you'll want to use "its" (possessive) rather than "it's" (it is). Overall, it’s a very moody, effective "anti-prophecy." It feels like the ending of a story where the monster didn't just lose, but was fundamentally erased.