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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1754560
The end of the world?
She Cried



The tears rolled like bowling balls, down her face.
She had to design and build a whole new place.
It could never be like it was before,
That had taken too many years to explore.

It could never be the same.
This was no longer a child’s game.
The fires went on burning.
The juices in her stomach, were churning.

She couldn’t even think what to do next.
What had She done, who had she hexed?
She blew out the lights,
And rose to new heights.

This would be the very last time,
That She would commit, this type of crime.
Never again would She destroy in the wild,
Every man, woman, baby, and child.

The Earth was now burnt to a crisp.
Nothing was left, but a thin smoke wisp.
She hated to end it all like this.
Humankind now, She just would not miss.

She was Lord of this world.
She was master and She hurled,
Bolts of lightning and clasps of thunder.
The whole world was torn asunder.

They had betrayed Her and each other,
Sister against sister and brother against brother.
This is where greed had taken them to.
She spit on them, this day, She would not rue.


LeBuert  Feb.  2011
© Copyright 2011 LeBuert (brucet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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