Apocalypse by Adrian CalhounHere we come,
the sons of men,
the sons of God.
We stand proudly,
boldly blazing new trails,
while erasing others.
In our wake,
we leave rubble and ash.
Standing against us,
will be your swift death.
We claim victory over many,
and defeat to none.
Fueled by the cries of wives and mothers,
we continue to destroy.
We know not, mercy.
Do not mock us,
do not scorn.
This vengeance was long ago foretold.
You had your chances,
you were more than well warned.
Here we are,
the sons of men,
the creation of God!
We are the horseman,
and we've been loosed upon the earth. 03/13/2003 Posted on 03/14/2003 Copyright © 2024 Adrian Calhoun
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 03/14/03 at 02:52 AM A bold reminder that the end times shall see horrible devastation! It just underscores we who name the name of Christ must be about our Father's business. Solid, vivid imagery! |
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