Poetry / Omega

I remember in the best of days when the winter had not passed,
I have witnessed the dreamer’s gaze who’s elation did not last,
And the Earth grew weak and its pulse fell slow so the rulers created,
They made the world in all its glory to their own cruel hatred.

With the fires quenched and the broken stone the world was wrought anew,
And in it held the sway of all who survived the awesome view,
But in its design one fatal flaw could lead to its destruction,
A gaping hole – an evil maw which perceived no good direction.

The race who sat and watched in silence now fled far in fear,
But much as they ran and hid they failed to escape the brutal tear,
The fake world failed was hungry and the men had only souls to sate,
And this rip in time and space agape could not make them contemplate.

Then ripping force and plying stress ate away their flesh.

And only when the black hole fake did have the last of the creator race,
Did it willingly abate,
And forever leave the haunted place,
While life began anew.

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