What Once Was

We frolic in our rapture

In our end of times

When the world will cease

And our crimes

Forgotten.

 

 DO NOT THINK

That the blight of man

Is a curse

For it comes as a blessing

Because when the world ceases

When our lungs are choked 

When our vision is colored

When our hearts are clouded

With the stench of our decay

We will be free

Of our Burden

 

While the sun sets behind us

On your hazy horizon

When crimson fades to cobalt

We will forget what you’ve done

And forgive what cannot be undone

For what is left

But each other

Since we have killed

Our destitute mother

 

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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