Rapture Never Comes

I wake up each morning from nightmares,

leave the beautiful darkness for the blinding light,

and as I wake I am thrust into a dream.

I say goodbye to the moon.

Only its ghost is left over, haunting the morning sky,

way up beyond touch, beyond reach.

And the fog erases the very mountains

like primer on the canvas

And the black hole in my chest spins 'round and 'round like a disco ball

and rapture never comes

and I wish it would

and take all the bad people away to their promised land

and leave me here in peace.