The landscape collapses inward

And the moon crashes into the sun

As the crimson horizon flashes

One last glance is granted to one


Flightless birds with brittle scorched wings

Hop from branch to smoldering branch

While one lone subdued songbird sings

Simply because she has a last chance


Engulfed in acrid opaque smoke

Hope dissipates into obscurity

Growing new legs while cowering low

In this, its diluted impurity


Fish struggle to take their final breath

As the lakes and oceans boil

And roots let loose their steadfast grasp

Of the arid infertile soil


The earth splits open as the dead rise

A crown of thorns pierces my head

Scourging my soul and opening my eyes

Only to realize that I’m still in bed


4 responses to “Apocalypse

  1. wondrous. very nicely written. love the descriptives and word play. glad to see your words again. i missed them.

  2. This is vivid. Love the end. Kudos, Scott!

  3. Yes! Nice unexpected twist for your ending, Scott!
    Vivid sensory details! Lovely word choices!

  4. Wow what a wonderful poem, glad it was a dream! Though we all know the scenery can be real. Well done Scott!!! Love it!

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