The Second Coming
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart, the center cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand,
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving is slow theighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?

I think this poem tuly speaks to the situation the modern world faces. It opens with the falcon spinning away from the falconer, to the point where he can no longer hear his master.

Then, Yeats continues with his vision of mass destruction. Who is this figure? The Anti-Christ, I think. Where the world was formerly guided and ruled by Christ, this beast seemingly replaces it. Christendom is replaced with anti-culture.

Fascinating, don't you think?