The world drops a little,
A few mere centimetres,
It's barely noticeable.
It being minute,
It still shoots alarm through my being,
Putting me cautious,
Wary of my surroundings.
On standby,
Everyone seems to continue,
As if the jolt was nothing.
The doubt floods into my thoughts,
Destroying the paranoia towers.
Was this just,
A hallucination? A figment
Of reading too much horror.
The weight of my shoulders,
I throw it back,
Laughing heartily,
Which a remaining tinge,
Of the lingering fear,
Which I had not managed to shake off.
Again.
More obvious this time,
My body flies into,
A series of alarms.
I look around,
The leaves of trees,
Are dancing slightly,
From the jolt of the earth.
No one sees it,
The paranoia sets in again.
I must be going senile,
The visions are back,
Swipe them away,
Bring normalcy back.
A split second,
My worst fears confirmed.
The world is engulfed,
In the largest and hottest flames.
It falls apart,
The broken land now black,
Layer by layer,
The fire gets stronger.
The cracks are already there,
It breaks.
The last days,
Of the earth,
Were fearful for some,
Elation for most.
Filled with ecstasy, blinded
By the worldly gods.
The end is here.
It fell apart.
The steps were there,
But your view clouded and obscured.
