Apocalypse Poem by mark anthony st. rose
Apocalypse
When the world becomes a lonely widow,
and all souls murdered no tomorrow,
buried in a cold desolate dirt,
no one to sing a rapso to mother earth,
or to bathe in the warm streams or dive in the beautiful sea,
this is surely the day I never wish to see.
copyright by Mark Anthony St. Rose. All rights reserved.
Friday, May 9, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: inspirational
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4/19/2024 12:00:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Nicely written piece. I also wish to never see this day.