The End of the World: A Poem
The End of the World Comes With a Blood Red Sun
a perfect orb without dimension
red-orange color defies description
it travels so it seems while i stand still
stuck in the moment i stopped believing
i stand while the eye moves
plague, locusts, fire, flood,
now we await the horsemen
don’t tell the world the truth
wait until they see it on you
but they are too busy
being seen to see
saint john saw flying wheeled beasts
i drive one to school each day
perhaps what he meant
is the end would come this way
not in one moment
of righteous uplift
but in a slow boil
we bring on ourselves
educate the masses
assimilate the classes
live right your light will shine
but we don’t see
what the light hides
and now our prophet
has been called home
who is burning in the sun
what are we losing when the moon
disappears behind the veil
when the glass reveals all
and the shadows on the wall
become solid
will we see ourselves at all
or will wee see
our self-destruction
of division
and compulsion
to be righteous
at all costs and
will we see
what we have lost
when we decide
who comes
who goes
who gives
who takes
and will we finally then
believe that we
were wrong about it all.
flat circle of red
defying description
this is the end
