What can surpass the beauty of an ending world?
The silent trumpets of some lord's stronghold,
Adorned by moss Poseidon's daughters play
For empty benches every passing day.

What can surpass the beauty of an ending world?
The blades of steel beginning to corrode
In heavy gauntlets of the armored mannequin,
Not destined to behead their foes again.

What can surpass the beauty of an ending world?
The ceilings painted not by artists, but by mold,
The withered pages rustling underneath
Disrupted not by shadow's gentle breeth.

The ancient city drowns in darkness when night falls
And bathe in daylight do uncrowded halls.
How far, I wonder, would be echo's flight
If voices never interrupt its graceful stride?

Corruption, curse, unmerciful defeat
It matters not which end for us to meet,
It is still the end...yet just before the final note is played
A secret beauty of the world becomes unveiled.

In every touch of stone, in every shred of lace,
An echo of a soul is left unscathed.
A will, a child's fantasy, a powerful desire
Immune to scorching heat of charnel pyre.

The weapons dream of crashing on the shield,
Of flag emerging on the ****** battlefield.
Amidst the gardens nymphs remember still
Forbidden kisses in the twilight chill.

The ghostly fingers pull the ghostly strings
For couples waltzing on the ghostly wings.
Through empty halls the howling winds still bear
The floral fragrance of a lady's hair.

This final moment glistens in the morning sun,
With no one to perceive, it will be gone.
So forth come I to take the final stand
As it was written, all the things must end.

The end is here. The final note is played.
These hidden meanings...they begin to fade.
As clear as day I witness on the edge of knife
The beautiful fragility of life.

Through thickness of the leaves a ray of light
Shines happily upon the burial site.
A cold steel coffin cradles in its hearth
The last surviving man on Earth.

He dreams of faces he remembers not
The Noh masks floating on their very spot,
Of a woman’s kiss and of her gentle smile.
Who was she? It has been a while.

A while that has lasted generations.
He from afar observed how every single nation
Tore down its contender’s throat
Until no one was left afloat.

With nations gone; the chaos reigned.
The worst in worst emerged unchained.
Regimes and wars had bled lands dry.
The people's end was drawing nigh.

He watched them come and watched them go -
Myriads of faces that he had come to know.
How many hands he tightly held until
Their masters felt dark lady’s blissful chill?

Remembrance lives of children lulled to sleep
First steps they took toward their father’s keep.
The paper boats they’d sent together on the sailing.
He fetched the water when their legs were failing.

A peaceful smile lingered on the wrinkled face
Of child passing on in his embrace.
The grip was tight long after he was gone
That day he buried last surviving son.

In aftershock he searched without rest
Amidst the forlorn ruins calling out like obsessed.
He would have burnt the world to ash, if given choice,
To hear an echo of a human’s voice.

For days and days he called and found none.
The fates are crueler to those attempt to run
The restless chase of his, no fruit it bore
Leading him back to the haunted shore.

Adrift he floated through the memories of joy,
Like paper boat set sailing by the little boy.
The salty waters lapping at his feet
Brought onward the attacking paper fleet.

And now, nothing could have hurt him more
Than gentle breeze, waves crashing on the shore.
For what are worth the shores, the distant skies
If they are destined only for his eyes?

These empty views, these meaningless delights -
Four walls he chose to shelter from their blight.
In cold steel coffin dies away the harrowing scream.
Inside, he feels the souls long gone with him.

Where foliage forbids the rays to venture forth
The cold steel coffin cradles the last man on Earth.
A pathetic creature forced to strive,
Forever cursed to be alive.