Apocalypse Ending
A poem in response to Randy Baker's Challenge.
There is salvation in the vomited waterfall of words
Whispered in the dead of night between tear-stained pillows
And the dreams that leaked out of their ears,
Dreams that seemed possible under the sunlight
And more like a noose in the pale rays of moonlight.
.
Those dreams look like blood.
.
They are dark on the pillow, shimmering beside opalescent tears
And the soft serenade of the sorrow Cascading over bleeding, broken lips.
They are black as obsidian in the clouded cover of night
But the weeping eyes know their true color is crimson.
A rattling bang trembles through the home and still she cries.
.
The car outside is on fire.
.
Its velvet seats burned along with the last traces of him.
The dog hair has already gone to ash.
Someone is screaming and the sound moves like a siren up and down,
Up and down,
Up and down the streets that held summer laughter and cicadas.
.
Another bang. Another cry. Then silence.
.
She dipped her hands in the ether, pulled on something forbidden.
Laughed and danced and kissed under pink sunsets.
She touched something ethereal,
Something ephemeral that could never dream of lasting.
But she couldn't know, he couldn't know, the world was set to detonate.
.
It burst in a flash.
.
There was no question when he didn't return home,
No great enigma to unravel, unwind, or understand.
Her heart had stopped beating already
And the pillowcase had gone red with blood.
He was never coming home and the home wouldn't stand.
.
The world's heart had stuttered to a stop already.
.
There on the horizon, and there in the wide pupils of her eyes,
A blazing orange mushroom ballooned in the distance.
The woman clutched the man's pillow and wept
For all she wanted was to find a way out of this labyrinth of doom
With a man who could never come home again.
.
This was the apocalypse ending.
_______________________________________________
I have no idea where this came from honestly but this was a stab at Randy Baker's February Challenge. Go check him out for more!
About the Creator
Silver Serpent Books
Writer. Interested in all the rocks people have forgotten to turn over. There are whole worlds under there, you know. Dark ones too, even better.
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Comments (4)
This is so creative and opulent - the language is absolutely rich and layered ! Love it
Congratulations! You earned 2nd Place in the challenge. Well done!
The use of color in this made it feel thick, like a rich, fancy dessert. I could taste it, if that makes sense.
Fantastic piece of writing. Loved the opening line, the evocative choice of words, and rhythmic turns of phrase constructed throughout: "Dreams that seemed possible under the sunlight... more like a noose in the pale rays of moonlight", "...something ethereal, something ephemeral..." and particularly comparing screams to a siren's sound moving "up and down, up and down," which flows into the juxtaposition of "Up and down the streets that held summer laughter and cicadas". Brilliant!