Blood curling chills,
bone crushing shivers.
Black ashes surround me,
as they corrupt the last pureness of the river.
FLAP FLAP FLAP!
Birds fly hard against the wind,
looking for any escape
unaware the world has them pinned.
Scared, sweaty, sick sensations.
Smoke ascends, stopping at no rate.
But just as the birds,
I could not escape my fate.
Winds roaring, thunder screaming.
The beauty of the meadow fades without fight.
I am a flower that slowly withers
as I watch day become like night.
I felt the truth dawning upon me
My body went numb and my mind crumpled with fear.
Because I knew soon the Earth would be nothing but a spec of dust
The End Is Near.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem