I wrote this poem for an English assignment, and everyone seems to like it. Everyone who’s read any of my fan-fics or “The New World” should appreciate this.

The End of the World.

three cold walls
in a 9 by 9 square
vertical lines of possession bar that one side
holding me in this pit of despair
a claylike smell cakes my nostrils
accosting me with a sense of underground
the cries of the wicked echo through the room
slapping me with regret, sadness, and pity
i look through the semi-wall
seeing the Blue Men
my fate balanced in their cruel hands
tears spill down my face as they take me out
gorging me with the vile taste of steak and potatoes
i walk the last mile
to the throne of death
mighty, triumphant
the ultimate Victor
perched ‘pon a platform of stone
sitting in it as a king
glancing around wildly
half formed thoughts fill my head
bouncing in the walls of my skull as i feel eternity rush near
bound down, i am read to from a scroll of black dread
my thoughts now terrible and insane
i thank God for the bindings
holding me, holding me in place
waiting for the pale rider to sweep me up
the man in black approaches that silver box
pretty, in its own delusional way
the switch is thrown
instantly sleep overtakes me
permanent, blissful sleep
sleep......................