Amid the ruins scorched by flame
Masked with recycled breath
I had only myself to blame
For this landscape of death

In a hollow, once called our home
A portrait charred in twain
Beheld amid descending gloam
A face once loved in vain

The void in which my figure stood
Was cinders, soot, and ash
But on the other half I could
Make out her smile's bright flash

I choked, not for the poisoned air
But for a shudd'ring cry
Forever dear, and always fair
She's gone and passed me by

Out fell a note tucked in the frame
Pale moonlight on the black
Up rose within my bile and shame
My heart and hands went slack

She wrote of guilt, remorse, and pain
Of passions pushed too far
Of venom, fog, and clouded brain
Pandora's box ajar

She prayed that I'd forgive someday
The snake-eye dice we cast
The innocence that went astray
The scorching nuclear blast

A tear escaped from my right eye
And jumped to kiss the page
My futile cries across the sky
Could not her guilt assuage

Her blame I've taken, come what may
Forgiven to the last
For me the day, though yesterday
I reckoned aeons passed

For in the end, Megiddo's wrath
The bloodbath and assault
Were all but fruits born of my path
The whole of it my fault

Among the ruins, nothing grows
Beneath this tainted sky
Only the howling wind still blows
And life itself is dry

My judgment is sure well-deserved
As penance for my guilt
But I still pray her joy preserved
Her happiness rebuilt

For though the curses, plagues, and death
Escaped the box's scope
I will declare to my last breath
Pandora's box holds Hope.