Lemmings Marching to the Fall...

I found yet another poem by the famous "unknown poet" of the Third Galaxy, buried in third level footnotes of the 21st Edition of the Absolute Truth to an article on the developments up to just before the bombing of Uran and the start of what were later known as the Terrible Times.

I used to think we had a chance, but that was long ago,
before I learned of how our world can end in ways both quick and slow;
in the blazing flash of bombs or the grind of global climate change;
in poisons which bring sudden death or slowly melt our brains...

Indeed, it seems the human race has nearly run its course;
in the distance I see a pale rider mounting his dark horse;
I hear the nightmare screech as soul is slowly sucked from bone;
as insects crawl upon the lines and we are all alone...

While some will screech of "Jesus" and others pray to nameless gods;
some will say to the thunderstorms, "Please, strike our lightning rods!"
Did it really have to come to this? Was there never another way?
Were we really doomed in our mother's womb to blow ourselves away?

I used to think we had a chance and maybe we really do!
But we'll never find it in comic books or scrawled on bathroom walls!
It is only in our secret heart we can find what is really true;
which can keep us from this lemming march, from marching to the fall...