Washed Away

July 29, 2011
The darkness comes from all around,
the light is fading fast.
Your wrist and ankles will be bound,
and your first will be your last.

All the trees will wither and die,
and the crops will bear no fruit.
The moon will come up but will not lie,
ridding us of the bright sunlight.

Then all the food will be gone,
and the water not far behind.
The years will go from short to long,
church bells no longer chime.

Somewhere out in the big scary world,
will be inhabitants of all kind.
With chaos destroying all of their things,
not even angels will bring peace of mind.

The devil will rise in power,
and demons will scour the earth.
But in the last and final hour,
your last shall be your first

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

emilybwrites said...
Aug. 16, 2011 at 9:47 am
emilybwrites said...
Aug. 5, 2011 at 9:27 am
wow this poem was great, good imagery, good overall poem!
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