Coming To End Poem by Ethan Moyer

And now the streets are riddled with cocaine and sunflowers.
The love generation; a passed out smile.
The time our strange earth grew high,
And the saint lion, satin lovers
Rejoiced a rejuvenated anarchy,
And protested back against the every
Black mind and set up soul ever known.
The naked, sunny generation lost in all time itself came
Closer to god then the rest of us.
Euphoria utopia,
The kings and leaders die.
The forever 27 heroes and all the rest,
Detest, and perish for damned and thoughtless society;
In ultimate price of protest.
The tree seeds stand still as the clouds cry
Before hostile, cold, thrill-less dawn.
Our mothers have abandoned us, and
The soft night will be our eternal womb.
The autumn is not a far cry, for the disturbed, mad, zen children.
Summer of love will come to an end, my friends.
The six year summer saw the likes of mantra and
Nirvana, but all must come to pass.
Back to the clay Arabian sun in which it all stood.
The Halloween pranksters slither back to their
Stone podiums, preaching the bad word.
And the soft society of love stands now tested
Through will and change.
The lucky ones dead or mad, and in velvet
Eternity and drowning
With them, with the likes of the timeless forever of
What we all had, if only for a second.