Tonight, I fear,
Tomorrow may never come.
Tonight, I feel,
The sky itself will split upon its brow,
Only to swallow this city whole.
These windows, their whispers,
They softly creep into the mind.
Can you feel the tension?
It seeps onto the promenade,
As it softly, gently,
Feels its way to the hearts of men.
Can you feel the steady hum?
It is the very core of this earth,
It shakes with these tidings of destruction;
It is the slow, unwavering
Disentegration of all that exists,
It is existence itself
Crashing onto the rocks,
Dashed by the tide
Into so many shards of reality.
The whole world itself
Is drowning in this sea,
This steady filling
Of a vessel soon to overflow,
Or break down the center
And release its very essence into the Abyss.
Even the trees, those monoliths of old,
Seem to be quivering, shaking with the wind,
Like so much kindling
Preparing to be lit aflame
And set to the pyre;
Rest assured no pheonix rests here.
Even the mountains, those guardians of age,
Seem to be sinking, falling with the hills,
Like so many pebbles
Preparing to be lost to the sea
And forgotten in the depths;
Rest assured no sailor shall tread here.
So I sit, motionless,
Wishing to be a part of that mass of stone that is the earth,
To simply ride out the storm,
To save myself from this punishment.
But no man can save his own skin, the weak impudent vessel,
A soul soon to be lost to darkness and water.
Fear is but an afterthought, a shadow of a thread
Lost in the knot of this terror.
I feel nothing but the cold, numb sensability
Of a man consigned to his death.
I had seen, or so I thought,
All this world had to offer.
So, foolishly I asked the gods to strike me,
For I said that nothing they could conjure
Would shake me from my pedestal.
I said that in all their pitiful creation
Nothing could strike me from my mark,
For I had seen it all.
But never till tonight, never till now,
Have I gone through a tempest dropping fire.