Apocalypse Song

I see an amber sky
         and fires blazing beyond the pale
I live under a tinfoil roof
         its corners curling from the heat

Fields of wheat and barley
         are lit with that final glow
         singeing slowly
         singing deeply
         of the burn that frees
         their earth-clung soul

Can you hear the melody
         to which the wind dost blow
         the dust and ash?
And hear the ending largo
         and that final note?

In the end
         when the land is scorched
         a dry, cracked black
And the amber dims
         deprived of fuel
What remains
         but my tinfoil roof?
What remains
         but I
         to mark that final rest