Doom Passes... Poem by David Welch

The nightfall comes, clouds the head,
scours the earth,
rouses widow's dread.

You feel the ashes swirling high,
choking the breath,
blinding the eyes.

Rolling thunder frightens all,
harkening doom
and the coming fall.

We stand with friends, watch the spire
of swirling smoke,
and searing fire.

The ground it falls beneath your feet,
dropping us down,
to infernal heat.

The wind whips like an angry god,
a pagan vengeance,
strikes the rod.

With burning welts and festering sores,
comes the hated day
of myth and lore.

All you love dies in the fray
for meager mortals,
it's time to pay…

But storms are passing, we all know
the last days come,
the last days go.

Apocalypse and doom they may,
make the visit,
but never stay.

Darkness and the scary night,
are just heralds
of morning light.

Past their moments comes a birth,
the sun returns,
and warms the Earth.

Dawn has come, we've all survived,
the end has ended,
let's go outside!