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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Morning has broken as it has done for many years Day to day we continue without the fear of fears Then out of the blue their comes thoughts from long ago Prophecies of a past, that could halt us humans flow Tablets scribed in gold, have been uncovered in Peru For in them they tell of the future, surrounding me and you We await with fervour in the media, the radio and the t.v. As I try to get my head around it, and what it means to me The day that they speak of, it's a little over a year Do we just laugh if off, or do the sensible in us fear As I drive through my city, towards this impending day The street corners start to fill, does panic have it's say Speakers start to recite, of this doom that welcomes we I see suicides in escalation, jumpers in front off me Families leave their homes, for they no not where to go Panic buying surrounds me, anarchy appears to flow We now reach December 2012, as we gain on the scribed day Can it be all that was written, have the ancient had their say My eyes catch the clock, midnight is awaiting it's strike It'll be the twenty first of December, are the Mayan scribes right The minutes pass the hour, everything appears to be normal Maybe the writes are fables, to them simply formal To pacify myself, will it be the radio or the t.v. Sometimes one has to ask oneself, to simply look and see Visions on the screen appear, many screens my eyes do view Reports from many countries are brought to me and you They show events of nature, more fierce than naturally so Rainfall in arid areas, deserts in metres off snow The Polar ice caps start cracking, exploding ice in crying break Mudslides now carry cities, everything caught in their wake Bangladesh now no longer exists, the Maldives have disappeared The Mariana Trench now starts to rise, her ridges in rampant rear A bulletin catches my ears, Yellowstone has started to erupt Is this what the scribes have warned of, our planet being so abrupt A rumbling I start to feel, where I stand I feel I move I'm in tumble across my floor, in fear of their impending prove My apartment on the only hill, allows through my window to view A giant fissure slices through my city, for into it, buildings spew The free ways now broken and torn, many cars in tumbledown From here I hear the screaming voices, I'm deafened by their drown http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-20.php
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