The Unwritten predominates, 

The times of wonder have gone,

We hold on - the wise ones drugged

Into submission.

Forensic psychology reveals traces

Of long-forgotten haunted faces;

Which, like Munch's lurid, silent scream,

Degenerate into nightmare-dream.

Or, so it seems.

Meanwhile, in population centres,

Desire, in all its lurid manifestations,

Falls into disuse,

All is as it was before:

Footsteps in the snow 

On a flat, grey concrete floor:

Krema I at Auschwitz,

Eminently productive procedures are established:

340 corpses burned every 24 hours

This was indeed progress of the sort required

Arbeit macht frei

Weaponising the common man and woman

An act of genius

Monsters exist

Much more dangerous are the common men and women,

Ready and able to act without question,.

Yes, plenty of these in our nation.