These Ominous Skies: End Times Poem by DM W

These Ominous Skies: End Times



These ominous skies
Have turned blood red. The air is
Prophetic. Now old,
Fiery symbols have returned
To supplant empty,
Modern, neon signs. The bright,
Young things are in a
State of deep despair, because
Their hopes and dreams are
Fading like quicksand. And their
Fragile, novel wells
Are now running dry as bones.
The wind is raging.
The silence is oppressive.

These Ominous Skies: End Times
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