She is getting cold in the Artic, so cold in fact she is hot, she shines near the ice and I have no part to play, but penguins do with a gaggle, they slide down the crystal hill, passion dances with snow flurries, and this nearly ends the story, as the heating heart of beating poetry melts the glaciers into fine tuned ooze.

Fears wash away from BRAIN WASH SHAMPOO!

Cowboy skill #1

Some words never die.

Instead of giving her my body I gave her my entire wardrobe, which left me feeling naked and democratic.

The demand for denim ended the soviet union. Fact. I will give you my pants for peace.

Earth needs help! Calling all monkeys!

Fiction will repeat!

Time Travel to San Francisco from the past!

Caves, we are living in caves!

Dive into the void of angry nuns.

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.