Here we are at the end of the world

Here we are at the end of the world

 The clouds gape and roar, thundering their pain

as fetid air blows from an oven door hot against the face

Heat dries eyeballs ears ring skin crawls as the hindbrain processes new and unknown into old fears

Crowded and herded by noise we look away from the thing that is bursting through the atmosphere above us

Forcing and burning its path to us

Pushing our breath away blinding and deafening us pushing us down until we prostrate on the mud

Afraid to look up as it they look down

Death is upon us

 

                       Kim Whysall-Hammond

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