Witness to the World’s End

Witness to the World’s End

I walk through the world’s end.
All its history in my ear, it whispers,
mourning its own destruction in sorrowful rain,
its supreme occupants, destroyed. Yet, I sense
only peace in this human-less world. A night’s dream
or night’s terror, is this? Without a care, the green live

on in this place where no human can continue to live
and ruin. For now, I will walk through the world’s end,
and eventually I will wander into my conclusion. But I dream
of a companion, to listen to the child-like wind’s whispers
race through an empty meadow, nomad-clouds who sense
the beckoning and call the graceful rain

to descend to soil. But I alone watch the wind, clouds, and rain,
and wonder as to why it is only I that shall survive and live.
I am less than the embodiment of a human, in a sense,
for ambition has left me on this serene terrain. The world’s end,
a canvas under my feet. I have heard a tragedy’s whisper,
when I walked through an abandoned atomic plant. I dream

of its former grandeur; it was built in honor of a dream,
unaware of the catastrophe that upon this dream would rain.
The crumbled cement, formidable ivy, and deathly silence all whisper
to me. Remain dead! I will command. Only I, alone, shall live.
Tempt me not, specters, for I will walk until the world’s end.
Cease this madness, and I demand to be returned to my senses.

I will keep walking, vanquishing slowly, forsaking my senses,
in this dazed, broken world, this world born of a dream,
step after step. I have wondered - has this world no actual end?
Clouded are my thoughts, but I shall walk through this misty rain
of insanity. For I am the only entity who sustained and live,
So for as long as I prevail, I shall be the witness to the world’s whisper.

It grows louder, transparent; it calls and grasps at me, the whisper.
A paradox: talk to me! I say. But resist! I plead to my senses.
Oh but I will forget that with me my senses no longer live,
For they were forsaken in that land of forgotten dreams.
I can feel fragments of bygone humanity rain
down around me. Is this, at last, the final end?

The finale of this world, is a whisper in a bleary dream,
and I wonder how many worlds have met their end on a rainy day.
I watched, senses lost, while humanity perished and its ghosts lived…