apocolypse
Learn more about other poetry terms
Bones creak as I riseTo dim gray morning light.Stumbling across the floorCrimson life from my lip takes flight.
Where roses meet asphaltWither. Rot. Mold. Asphyxiate.Here lie collapsed towersHeat. Lost. Combustion. Timber.Angels fallen trumpet loudAshes. Feathers. Triumph. Lore.Time runs ever odd
There are four horseman on a hill
Death, Famine, Pestilence, and War
There’s four horsemen on a hill
MANY WILL BE LEFT TO FACE SORROW AND GRIEF!
ALL BECAUSE OF THEIR UNBELIEF.
A TIME OF WHICH MANY HAVE FEARED,
MILLIONS OF CHRISTIANS HAVING DISAPPEARED.
IN YOUR MINDS EYE PLEASE TRY TO CAPTURE,
Skies are kissed with crimson fireletting all know the situation's dire.There is no chance or hope for escape
So what if this is the end?
What if this is goodbye?
What if fire starts to ravagely roar from the sky?
This is it for our memories we've made in our lives.
So stop thinking about the future, and listen to me now.
What did we do? How did the judge rule?
How did we wind up here?
How did I end up in a prison called School?
What crime did I commit?
Honestly, to wind up in a place like this;
The night is dark, and I can see
Quite plainly, now, the two or three
Or four or five of them that come.
Oh, how I wish that I were numb
To all the things that soon shall be.
And what will have become of me
Hunger, starvation
What I wouldn’t give for the sensation
Good, bad, any feeling would suffice
Or, better yet, to sleep forever would be nice
For longer than I care to remember I have been numb
