I don’t know how to write a poem,
My heart has never been quite that broken,
I fill my soul with a great totem,
Only to leave the words unspoken.
I’ll write a song the birds will sing,
In the sky while they dip and dive,
At the dawning of the spring,
May the heavens ever thrive.
But the earth there withers and dies,
Mountains of burning fiery hate,
Through a veil of little white lies,
I have come to seek my fate.
With these final words upon my lips,
I hope you forgive my apocalypse.