Brian Hinckley

Rookie (07-30-81 / Buffalo, New York)

The End Of Days - Poem by Brian Hinckley

When fire consumes
all my life's work;
when bitter cold
buries all my memories.

When the darkness breeds
evil beyond imagining;
when the light fades
and hope disappears.

The end of days,
bringing damnation.
The end of days,
my last hope for salvation.

I watch the flares
in the night sky.
I see the light
racing towards me.

I feel no pain
as my flesh is torn;
I feel no pain
as I no longer live.

The end of days,
come soon or far.
The end of days,
my last hope of salvation.

How shall I spend
my final hours?
Do I become
a devil or a saint.

My soul hopes
I make good,
my mind
knows better.

I am neither
a devil or a saint.
I live a life
I deem worthy.

The end of days,
the final reckoning.
The end of days,
my last hope of salvation.

Today I do not think
of the end of days.
Today I think
of a better world.

Today I think
of a place to raise my children.
Today I think
I will try to make it better.

The end of days,
the final hours.
The end of days,
I wish you ill will.

Keep back, world's end,
stay away forever!
I want my children to live!
I want my children
to see the birth
of theirs.

I sit back
and enjoy what comes.
The end of days will come,
but I can do my part to stall it.


Comments about The End Of Days by Brian Hinckley

  • Kumarmani Mahakul (3/2/2019 9:31:00 PM)

    When bitter cold buries all your memories and fire consumes all works, this provokes thought giving pain and sorrow. The day ends with many bitter and sweet experiences. But still we expect another good day to live happily. This poem is excellently penned...10 (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Poem Edited: Tuesday, March 1, 2011


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