Last Of Men Poem by Timothy Lee Hollandsworth Jr.

Immortal race and
An abominable nation
With a passion for Elimination.

Radical passion
Is this orders fashion,
It’s coming down on you.

The weight of the world on your shoulders
The void of space getting colder.
That’s the price you pay, to be the last of men.

The need growing dire
Follow the sire,
Your master liar.

New days will come
Under the sun,
The past they will shun.

The weight of the world on your shoulders.
The void of space is getting colder.
That’s the price to pay, to be the last of men.