! Apocalypse? Poem by Linda Ori

Upon the highest peak she stands
Angel or the devil's spawn?
Windswept tresses red as flame
No one knows from whence she came;

From her lips the sounds of death
Rolling thunder rocks the earth,
Future held within her hands
Pours from her fingers, blood-soaked sands;

Black clouds rumble in the distance
Lightning flashes sear the sky,
All the peace doves leave their nesting
From this day there'll be no resting;

Might this vision be a warning
Sent to man to mend his ways?
Still I wonder if he'll listen
From our eyes more tears will glisten;

Welcome the apocalyspe!
Behold - the firey end is nigh,
If man does not amend his ways
He will have but to count the days.


10/26/2008