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The Time of Truth

Versahi

By VersahiPublished about a year ago 2 min read
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Here we sat

Rolling hills stretching beyond our sight

Grass drifting slowly in the low wind

Clouds still upon the horizon,

As birds, singing their final tune,

Shifted note and fled at the sound of our voices

At this, the end of the world.

Turn your shoulder to witness

The burning of civilisation

Behind us

Away from the madness and screaming

One last place of calm

Where we can, once and for all, resolve our doubts

You ask of my love and I reveal all

Secrets flooding from me

As the ocean floods the land

At this, the end of civilisation.

Not fear, pure bliss

As the last birth of our wretched creation

Wreaks havoc on Earth

Drowning green in blue

And all else flickering red and yellow

This violent landscape is far away,

And catches the light in your eye

The same way the sun did when first we met

At this, the end of colour.

This is not what I pictured in the word

Apocalypse

I had always imagined it so much more painful

But there is beauty in this destruction

There are no longer words to hide

The secrets that burdened my heavy mind released

Like the vapour on the ocean as even it burns

The sweet release

We had all feared

Is not bitter, nor sad, but a last chance

To enjoy the breeze in your hair

From the last wind, whose force soon shall tear us apart

At this, the end of nature.

Shall we finally know of heaven

Or hell

Or the absence of promised lands

Perhaps we will just drift

But for now it matters not

All effect has known no result

The ripples we caused could not halt this.

I always thought I'd escape

Save mankind

Save us

But no, I too give in to this beautiful destruction

Never to make a wave

At this, the end of spirit.

And so here we sat

Waiting for the final breath

Watching as all else slowly dies

Truthful and pure in only this moment

As birds sing

As grass, burning, sways in the gradually building wind

As clouds in the distance, with not silver, but golden lining

Gather around us above

In shapes uncommon and exquisite

At this, the end of the world.

art
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About the Creator

Versahi

For a good many years, writing has been a therapeutic escape for me, helping to make sense of the complicated emotions. It allowed me to process and create something I could be proud of. Please enjoy!

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