In a fruitful life, I imagined a future so pure,
Echoes of spring, and a realm so allure.
Momentarily, the future wasn't so sure,
What seemed gold, was an alloy not so pure.

In that realm, echoes of spring did exist,
But the happiness did embrace an exit.
There were many wounds, but loneliness remained on top,
I tried to bring eclectic sources,
But deep down I knew they were prop.

This is the silence before the storm,
Ancient words of fate and form,
The world now trembles, hearts beat fast,
For I am the master of my past.

The voice within chants, to fly the skies,
Bury the old ones, and give birth to new ties.
Now, the world quakes as fates unfurl,
For now I have become death, the destroyer of worlds.




© keanu ellery