Last Call
Trumpets sound.
I open the bedroom curtains
to look outside.
Lights criss-cross the sky
in every direction.
Buildings begin to collapse,
tier upon tier.
Spores grow from the bed,
crusty and gelatinous tentacles
wave from among them.
Loud cries and wailing
rises up all around
and changes to shrieks of terror
as a dark horse gallops across the sky.
We have collectively imagined the apocalypse
so many times - finally
we have brought it into being.
I open the bedroom curtains
to look outside.
Lights criss-cross the sky
in every direction.
Buildings begin to collapse,
tier upon tier.
Spores grow from the bed,
crusty and gelatinous tentacles
wave from among them.
Loud cries and wailing
rises up all around
and changes to shrieks of terror
as a dark horse gallops across the sky.
We have collectively imagined the apocalypse
so many times - finally
we have brought it into being.
posted by burning moon at 4:58 PM
2 Comments:
We did?
I must have missed that meeting *grin*
Nice write kid, you take us kicking and screaming into the apocalypse so easily, you paint it, and quite frankly, my day is a little darker now lol
sorry bud. Didn't mean to bring you down. This was a fragment of a dream I had.
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