When the end is near
it will look like
a november day.
The sky dark and
overcast,scarcely
letting in a ray
of light.
All life has been leeched
from the fruitless earth.
Trees mere skeletons
waving back and forth
in the cold harsh wind.
Snow gently flowing
down like ash.
We are in expectance
that the sky will rip open
with lightning and fire
a blinding light
the true end of all.
As for now
November
simply means wait.
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