The End

Maybe this
is really the end.
The rapture.
The apocalypse.

The one my mama's
bible taught me.
She told me
to look for
the the signs - warnings
about war and bloodshed.
The finale is when
there is a gut wrenching
hate about hate but
there is no love in between.
She said this marks the sundown.
The nightfall of earth.
That we all should kneel down
and pray.
Repent for our sins.
Deny all things unholy,
Before it's too late.

Maybe she's right.
That i will go straight to hell.
That this damn soul will go nowhere
but damnation.

She have no idea,

that i have been burning all this time.
I've been in this limbo for
god knows how long.
That my lungs breathe fire and brimstone.
That my mind is a pandemonium of
monsters.

And maybe she's right.
This might be the end of times.
But mama i've been on my knees for
far too long.
My bones have become brittle.
I've become a stranger to prayer.

And if these are the last days.
I would welcome it with open arms,
make it a cup of tea.
Play it a requiem of love songs.
Tell this doomsday I miss it.

Maybe this,
is really the end.
And if it is,
i would gladly
burn
with it.