Deserted

To write my own ending of time

Would truly be sublime

The end of man

In the palm of my hand

All pleasantries aside

With no place to hide

Pushing them all to call

“All hail the King of Death!”

A simple breeze

Can bring the world to its knees

A failing plea

One last breath for serenity

A crimson saviour is all they hope for

But this time

I am the wretched and divine

The survivor of all

He who will make one last battle call