by T.C Leonard

Created on: March 11, 2010   Last Updated: March 12, 2010

"Waiting for Hale-Bopp"

The air, still and oppressive,
Had not since midnight moved
A leader second-guessed himself,
His followers behooved

To sit on pins and needles
As they sat upon their hands
As their hourglasses emptied
Of their wasted, final sands

Then someone passed the Kool-Aid,
And it circled 'round the room-
Bodies fell like tenpins
On the lanes of cosmic doom

A comet lit the heavens
And it never wondered why
Its homage was the reason
That the foolish chose to die.

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