Doomsday nurses us from the start, reigning over the watchlist of our lifetimes. I walk through the destruction in my path while ignoring the hand I dealt in it. The disillusionment falls out of your mouth and I weep tears at the sight. The end of a cycle. I nutured you whole and watched the lilacs bloom from your scalp. Started as buds but with the passage of time became weeded. I thought I breathed new life but it stands as just obliteration.