The sky is a slate of bruising regret,
Thunder mutters, whispering threat.
Ash falls like snow from a fractured sun,
The final hour, the end begun.
The winds are sharp, the oceans roar,
A distant cry from an ancient shore.
Buildings crumble, cities fade,
Destroyed by the hands of a world “manmade”.
Beneath the ground, is the silence and echoes of despair,
Where life once thrived, now only dust and air.
A monument to folly, a grim, decaying tomb,
For a civilization sealed within its doom.
Doomsday’s here, its toll is clear—
Yet in its wake, do we disappear?
