Doom Happening. (Part 3) Poem by Noorie Ali

There will be a day:
When my footsteps, will print the stainless mud.
There will be a day
When the moon hides, and the stars follow-up closely.
A day when dear mountains, forget to stand tall like green leafs.
Those “the roses” will deny this-blinding colour.
The time when, the humid nature will bow down to the sun.
There will be 'prettiness' softly marking the grounds that shuck this world.
Hungry soil will cry. The clouds will not know of whiteness.
The pale skies will show.
There will be dancing angels shoulder to shoulder, whispering goodness.
You will be warned; when the day has arisen, there will be light.