The Last Days

The end is only the beginning.

Frozen lungs;

can’t breathe in Winter.

Eyes open,

longing for sleep.

Plague,

here on me

is something I can see.

Death is the reality.

 

Enough words were whispered,

but the emotion in the silence

is enough to know.

The sorrow rolls from the

eyes of the children of children.

The time has come.

The sky rains fire,

the stars fall,

and cries of protest reverberate.

 

Nothing words can do

can cover up what lies

in plain sight.

Humanity throws around

false truths.

Nothing can be believed.

Through the clouded words

and heartbreaking silence,

the truth is revealed.

In our hands we know it’s real.

 

The time has come.

It is the end of all things mortal.

The world has endured enough pain.

Thaw the lungs;

be allowed to breathe.

Easy now

for you slow down.

Eyes closed

and sleep arrives.

Plague settles,

something I can no longer see.

The last days are at her door.

 

Spirit flies up,

a breath of fresh air.

Death may be the reality,

but the last days are only

the beginning.

Author's Note

On the surface, this poem is about the apocalypse. Deeper, its true message says that life comes from death, a beginning from the end. Nothing ever truly ends. There will always be hope for a new start, even if the world has gone mad.

Reviews

[quinfinn]

reminds me of the story of the phoenix rising from the ashes to bring new hope and new life. this is excellent and was wonderfully , masterfully crafted and worded.
your writing abilities are impressive and i never tire of looking at your poems. outstanding job!