Apocalypse

A breeze becomes a storm.

And a wave, a tsunami.

The balanced orbit of existence, becomes a spiral to doom.

As the dawn rises, the apocalypse becomes apparent

and it shape:

a dull murky mix of black and deep blue fleeting in a mist of olive green.

Pointy and sharp, rough around the edges.

No stars will shine here,

no light from within.

Nothing but the wildfires will provide a source of light.

The glow of people, their burning spirits are forever lost.

Engulfed by the dark reality.

All hope, forever gone.

All salvation, a lost cause.

All but the forever burnt in mental picture.

The mesmerizing candle flame of possibility,

inside the lost heart of a last remaining soul.

The last one, to change it all.

Reviews

[Tony]

I love the imagery in this piece. Very well done.