End of Days

A poem about a apocalypse leaving a man alone in the world.

I sift through my broken dreams,
remembering the dieing screams.
Pulling out the insidious weeds,
throwing away the broken creeds.

I have no hope left to endow,
seeing everything so clear now.
All I see is my past life,
riddled by the constant strife.

Happy thoughts gone and banned,
I walk through the darkened land.
Looking for my lost home,
writing this sad final poem.

I feel the throbbing in my head,
my body broken and dreams dead.
I can't find food anywhere,
but it doesn't matter I don't care.

Ash stained upon my face,
left with no right place.
My skin burns from the cancer,
the ash in the wind a death dancer.

No suns beauty to be seen,
the final days so serene.
God won't save me anymore,
his word a dirty whore.

Please death come in a hurry,
my final thoughts confused and blurry.
The human race lies with me,
dead and gone due to infertility.