El-Branden Brazil

The day has come!
We knew it would.
We waited patiently.
The birds have stopped singing.
The skies have turned black;
Within the clouds we see.
What can we do on such a bleak day?
What can any of us say?
I sit,
I lift a violin for a melancholic tune,
While television continues to drivel on
And the radio tells us how to tell.
A signal bursts forth to assert
Conditions of life in the Afterworld.
Now materialistic folly observed;
Why did it take this catastrophe
To tell us what it’s really worth?
And all that we have built
Has become worthless, pointless, short of Spirit;
An aimless hording of all we value;
A failing the cause of our reckoning.
And now it’s here upon us bare –
The Inevitable Day:
The Foresight of Aeons.
The loss of one is always startling;
The loss of all is desperately overwhelming.
The cultural ego of our race
Broken, torn and to be erased.
Nothing can save us –
Nothing will,

While our minds visualise their final resting place.