The Prophecy

This is a revision of one of my earliest poems.

 

 

 

In twilight, the angels shall fall.

Never to flourish,

Not at all.

 

A furious flame shall sweep the lands,

As a horrid darkness swallows the sands.

The sting of death will devour us whole,

As we scorch the Earth, spilling fire,

Screams growing ever higher.

 

In obscurity he has dwelt,

Drenched in malicious bliss,

Every human soul in his hand.

 

Now at twilight The dead will answer their call,

And the angels will fall,

Never to nourish this land,

Not at all.

Reviews

[Stephan]

Nicely done. The imagery is vivid and strong. It's a bit dark but I like it.