Can you feel the seismic rift.
Shift your weight. Keep your balance.
Hold steady.
The ground is moving beneath.
We've been waiting, expecting this to happen.
It's Mesopotamian in scope.
Hordes will be swallowed up.
Legions will burn,
We will willingly suffer PTS,
But there will come calm,
When the debris stops falling;
But till then,
Cover your heads, look down,
Then look up.
Wonderful metaphor. I think I get what you are saying; in any case, it's a fine piece of work and can be interpreted in many ways...which makes it timeless!
Wow! Something quite different from your usual style, Francie. And I love it!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sounds like a prophecy, very creative!