Death prowls

 

 

Death prowls the town

as the bells echo.

A ghostly sound

in the still chill air.

A shiver as fear

places its hands

upon your neck

and screams 

loudly into your ear...

Disaster imminent.

Prepare.

Be vigilant.

Be scared.

Assimilate.

 

Death walked these lands,

sun burnt and dry.

Parched earth.

No time for goodbyes.

Scorched ground

smouldering in the heat.

Death surveyed the scene,

no sound

but never missing the beat

of the lonely heart,

sat crying beside the streets

 

Fire and debris,

red flame flashes.

Missile fragments

scattered like ashes.

Death paid no heed

to the masses,

as they crawled

through the world-shaped void.

Burnt and bloodied

their time

had come

undone.

Unravelled

like the final

burning threads

of the dying sun.

 

Battered, blistered,

mankind's words

now just forgotten whispers.

Cracked landscape,

destruction manmade.

Escape?

Death waved away

the question, the notion.

Showing little emotion.

'No time to be saved'

He said 

as he corrupted

another ocean.

 

Boiling seas,

lava red.

Death counts

the rotting and the dead.

His job well done

he thinks

As he leaves.

turning off the sun

as it sinks. 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Kyle