Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The End of Everything

Ofttimes I ponder wisest men of yore,
Confessing that I do not understand
Why they proclaimed in ages long before,
"The end of everything is near at hand."
For days have turned to weeks and weeks have flown;
Unceasing plays the music of the spheres.
And so the end, it seems, has been postponed,
As time is swallowed in the fleeting years.
But now two thousand years have swiftly gone,
And faith has waned, diminished, then succumbed,
The world spins on, unending dusk and dawn,
And none believes the end will surely come.
Yet sadly this has slipped beyond our ken:
Impassioned boldness of those ancient men.

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