Easter Sunday, 2022, with world war looming

On this day I believe quite seriously                                                                                                            That we are on the brink of World War Three.

And if this were to be the end of time,

This muddled present moment, plucked by chance

From the vast calendar of ages past,

Packed with events since earth was in its prime,

What if this clumsiest moment in the dance

Were chosen to be earth’s and mankind’s last,

Which we, suspecting nothing, let slip by

Not knowing this would be the day we die?

Would it not be a fitting end to lives

So foolishly squandered or so vilely spent

In the pursuit of madness and delusion,

If, when the fatal day of wrath arrives,

We are left no saving minute to repent

But are cut off in terror and confusion.

This would be the great judgment on our age:

To take no bow before we leave the stage.

A sign we are not fit to recognize

The folly our age lived in as it dies.

A civilization devoted to war and hate

Consumed by fire as its predestined fate.

Oh Lord, if one part of Europe could survive

The punishment of time, let it be Russia.

The victim of the West’s insane hostility

For a thousand years, surely deserves to thrive

When the West is gone, so let the West’s fall usher

In a new time of peace, calm and tranquility,

Where Russia, China, Asia and Africa will flower

While the West perishes from its lust for power.