This Is The End, For You My Friend. Poem by Brittney Karasek

I can feel the air changing.
The wind grows weak.
The sun sort of fades into the abstract;
it drifts into welcoming coldness.
Eventually everything else will too.
You will forget meaning,
reason, faith, hope.
On this day it won't matter what you believe in.
This is the day of reckoning.
This is the final hour.
No, no my dear,
not me, not for us.
This is not mankind's destruction.
This is your ceremony.
This is your execution.
This is my revolution.
This is my penance.
Goodbye my friend,
I am here to end you.