The Ghosts Who Wraith

[Not only do I not remember when or why I first wrote this rambling rant, I have no clear understanding exactly why I composed it and even less why I post it today. Perhaps it's just that strange foreboding which often plagues me]

The ghosts who wraith among the ruins after the Great Dieing:
Amidst the groans, the wails, the keening
-- at times, the Question asks:

"How did this happen? How did such tragedy come to pass?"

The Answer comes (softly moaning) in a pale wind’s sighing:

When false "gods" are called "true",
the True God is made false;

When vile men curse with blessings,
the blesséd themselves are cursed;

When the ancient dream and the purest
gold fill an empty purse
and arrogance embraces innocence
in an ever more obscene waltz;

When excremental poisons fill the ocean’s deep;
When love is sold as a luxury;
When wise men weep and tremble because
of what they see;

When deals are made and Death
is grown upon the bones of sheep;

When angels fall and Asmodeus sits upon Solomon’s Throne
and demons bark in cacophonic screeching catcalls:

"All hail to Thee, O Mighty Prince of Light!"

When darkness falls and insects crawl
and time becomes an endless busy tone...

It’s then you’ll hear them singing, "The time is mad, the time is sad!"
It's then you'll understand that, "everything is coming unglued..."

...and when you say you felt so strangely helpless,

the Question will ask:

"Was there really nothing you could do?"

(The ghosts who wraith among the ruins are those who have
no answer, no answer at all...)