Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2017
The mountains of glory block the sun's rays
from lighting the aftermath
of a stormy situation
that wreaks the emotions of the weak
Death has taken his toll
and souls of the decapitated roam free
as the earth rumbles and spits fire
while the wind hustles and spins
Engulfing everything in sight,
the nigh apocalypse commenced.

Leaves rustle, trees begin to brittle.
Little by little shall the earth be acquittal.
The end was near,
The end is here.
Written by
luq  16/M
(16/M)   
315
     Fawn and Lior Gavra
Please log in to view and add comments on poems