when the world ends i don't envision an exploding sky of blue and yellow and red and green. i don't see tectonic plates snapping into pieces and surging from the confines of the earth, and into the sky in a slow-motion frenzy of flying rock, flocks of people dispersing in every direction, crushed cars, tumbling buildings, and fractures of glass littering the roads reflecting the glaring eruption of sky. the people's hysteric screams of terror and panic won't be there to be drowned out by the sun's apocalyptic bang and the moon's desolate wail and the little girl on the corner of the intersection, clutching onto her teddybear, won't be whisked away by chunks of civilisation tearing the wind apart.

no. the world will not end in a cataclysmic, paroxysm of loud booms and bangs.

no.

when the world ends i see the sky dimming, illuminating the earth with a feeble tremble of sun and warmth, like a candle struggling to keep its flame. i see the lone car crawling along the desolate strip of road, and the absence of the bustling streets and bright city lights. all the stars diminish one by one, in sudden pops, some flickering in a desperate attempt to thwart the final judgement. inside houses families clutch despairingly onto life, and that little girl huddles in her corner, shivering. her teddybear falls limply to the ground beside her, she lets out a small, oblivious whimper. and that is the last sound no one will hear.

that, is how the world will end. not with a bang, but with a whimper.

a/n ; inspired by the hollow men by ts eliot. r&r pl0x :)