hall of apocalypse

rough draft, just a bundle of things i found aesthetic

muffled flickers of marigold

clawing at torn wallpapers of barren age

that suffocate spirit and rage,

just to hush in smoky wisps, resigned.

is that the ecstasy of ephemerality?

golden rings cloaked by lace

retaining posture as they were corsets,

the rust would strip bare, over time,

what little pigment endorsed their wires.

did it creep back down in remorse?

rapids racing against calm

caressing the dim, dilating hue casted.

busied loafers treaded nonetheless,

then rose the mellowed icicles.

when would this quotidian cycle settle?

radios buzzing into silence

swarmed by nibbling insects, seeking refuge.

the hollowed speakers soon break loose,

creaking with one last strum.

is this nature’s apocalyptic beauty?

Reviews

[Writergurl]

I enjoyed this such a wonderful, and ponderful write