The brutality
The horror
The insanity
The terror
It was chaos
At its peak
It was disaster
At its limit
It was catastrophe
Heaven wept
Hell mourned
The devil cried
In pity
The gods sat
In anything but stoic
The rage
Was intolerable
The anguish
Was incomprehensible
The vengeance
Was incorrigible
The sun felt it
And never woke
The moon saw it
And was in a trance
It crawled
Through the night
And soaked the air
It trickled
Through the dark
And clogged the land
Like an ulcer
It pained the tranquility
Not once, not twice
Was the ebony sliced
With blades of grief
And shaken
By tremors of uncertainty
Vanity in itself
Was a walking corpse
Iniquity at its purest
Was the living dead
It was the moment
Reality was a torment
Death and life did rhyme
Hope was only but mimed
And fear churned
The bowels of sanity
Confusion stroked
The nerves serenity
As Hell’s scene
Was on rewind
And Heaven’s nightmare
Was on replay
It was the unspeakable
Spelt in wrath
Your penning is always sweet.
I felt every moment of it
About that thin that even made the sun not to rise.
Good penning Danaro