On the first day,
there was light.
A cold brilliance,
naked illumination;
it singed and seared,
and left none unscathed.
We were blinded by this light,
stripped of reason and foresight.
And then it was gone—
The first day.


On the second day,
the sky disappeared.
A shroud of disillusion
pranced in its place,
waltzing in charcoal and
suffocation.
We groped for the heavens,
but touched only gossamers
of sinewy regret—
the second day.


On the third day,
the land and sea
engaged in battle.
Oceans slapped mutinous violations,
that decimated all vegetation.
The Earth trembled
in wrath
and cried torrents of steamy blood.
We, too, quivered,
from our damp and tumultuous
make-shift shelters—
the third day.


On the fourth day,
all celestial bodies fell.
Stars fainted tragically,
while the pox-marked Moon
sighed feeble tears,
and the Sun
donned a funeral mask.
We were deafened
by their wails—
the fourth day.


On the fifth day,
all animals died.
Birds plummeted,
fish drowned,
and livestock perished.
We retched from the fumes
of their decay.
Pestilence lingered,
like an unwelcome memory—
the fifth day.


On the sixth day,
Humanity ceased to exist.
Cowardice begat Folly,
and we frothed
in Avarice,
the prospective survivors.
But there were
none, as we tasted
our rust-soaked aspirations
disappear:
a foiled Communion—
the sixth day.


On the seventh day,
there was rest.


Because there was nothing
left.

Impressum

Texte: All text is my original work, all rights reserved.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 07.02.2010

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Widmung:
To all who suffered from past, present, and future natural disasters.