major apocalypse
my lungs can't hold anymore ash,
not when i'm seeing the red oval
of the sun searing the country in half;
i can feel soot light on my skin
like birds, like petals,
and all i can think of is that
when bodies burn, they burn
in layers, and every differing
material is a different shade,
that hair burns into a silver
dusting, that bones become black
and i'm walking through
the mists of children that i've
destroyed, i'm breathing misery
and i'm the god of this destruction
there is no power like the power
of a man who has birthed hell,
there is nowhere for me to go now
when i have died; when will
i burn, when will my ashes paint the
sunred skies, will other monsters breathe
my body in? i hope that judgment day
will bring me peace, i hope the faces
of burning skulls don't laugh
when i beg forgiveness.