The world will end in the afternoon,
in the middle, unhurriedly, when
it is no time for anything to end.
The end, inevitable, awaited for, will
come about in peace, with a
meteoric haste. Splintering away,
first the air, the water and the earth,
and then the fire. Yes, that will be the order
of things, I am sure of it. The world
will end, in broad daylight, in the middle
of everything.
Opus
By Orizielle
a lonely Saturday conversation on the wrong side of the yellow bedroom curtains. ... || Wattys Winner 2018 || More