Death-Cheating Generation

From the cradle to the stormy grave, we are suckling Life, starving for living.

From the cradle to the stormy grave
We are suckling Life, starving for living.
Wielding fell swords and fighting for haven
From the twilight of Life, pock-marked with sorrow.
And pills, pills, pills,
Tossed into the air and cascading down
Into our mouths, probing every open oriface
To stretch time with chemical precision.
We, heedless to the prayers of those passing before,
The ideas unchallenged, the dreams left un-named,
Would prolong death, the fist-handed, formless Judge,
And beg a boon of the the all-capitalized GOD.