Horror Of The Unknown Poem by Caleb Crow

I can feel the air shift,
The breeze has turned to a cold gust.
Life is begining to go into transition,
So what is left for us?
I fear the worst has happened,
Reconizing the worlds rage.
I have heared the name of the beast,
In its sinister tougue it speaks of change.
I know what you will argue,
You will say I speak out of term.
But infact they strip us of our heroes,
So they can watch us burn.
Steal our figure of strength,
With bribes of bliss and grandure.
As we stand by ourselves,
In a crippled, weak, and withered stature.
Will we find an escape from this prison,
Some piece of mind in the insanity.
Or will we lay dead in our pretence,
Will we lie in our own fantacsy.