Light fades at the end of a seemingly
endless play of each and every insanity-
shaped masks on our stage that dreamingly
reflects seasons of humanity.
Sun is going away to the blotches of night
steadily appearing on its tattered
surface. Red bats come now there is no bright
and plan to have deep-staining blood splattered
Across the world we will run (away).
from demons, devils, things with glowing eyes
coming from body filled halls deep under
where sins drag us down their road, so damp, so grey.
We can see a body hanging – it dries
and we won’t escape Death’s loud thunder.
- Title: Apocalypse
- Artist: Atheshya
- Description: I felt like writing about the end of the world one day, and this sonnet came out.
- Date: 07/22/2008
- Tags: apocalypse