The End of Light

The light has gone, like the prophet once told.

All the lights have gone put out the sun has grown cold.

While we lay here in the eternal dark. There is nothing to do, some wars begin to spark.

There are no torches the only thing to see.

Is the gunfire in the distance surrounding you and me.

Nations blame nations explosions ensue, nuclear bombs are all around me and you.

The light has gone, just like the elderly forebode the wind is picking up no shadows left to fold.

As we lay out here I can still feel your hand enclosed in mine.

One single tear not of fear but of love, that’s fine.

I can feel the cold night air like needles in my lungs, yet I still feel warm even though we are the last ones.

The sun has gone, the world began to corrode.

Yet we remained like a pestilential mold.

We laid in what we believed to be grass and looked up at the stars my last image of light,

I though about of you and missed you with all my might.

I was the last human left,

Then suddenly I felt a cold grip on my shoulder.