Gothic storm across the heavens, splitting

the sky in two creating a rip in the fabric

of the sky into which the earth will fall,

doomed and dead into the abyss of time

forever more. We are the generation of the damned,

condemned to be this for the rest of our lives

until we die, by our own hand

or that of Old Father Time or of our enemies,

stalking us across the chapters of the universe,

never ending. The seas of time used to be on our side

but now the hour glass has tilted and we slide

effortlessly downwards, to our end

and that of all that meant something to us,

now nothing but ashes and dust,

not even a folk memory remains as we cease

to exist, become nothing but a storm in the rift

of time that is the world, an idea of what might have been,

ending now…




◄ DICKHEAD (mild swearing lol)



No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message