Below is the poem entitled Apocalypse which was written by poet
Cannon. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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Sitting in a withered tree,
Decaying bodies surrounding Me,
I look back on the days that passed,
Of hopes that weren't meant to last.
Of hopes to get away from this place,
Death that ravages the face,
They seek such meet they deemed fresh,
What better than human flesh?
We ran as long a we could,
Stopping only for the search of food.
My wife daughter sister and i,
All we could do is try.
These cursed bodies never stopped,
Their bodies we Attempted to chop
In pieces to end their blight
It was a useless fight.
And so we continued on our way,
There was no reason to stay
When disaster struck so fast,
Their hoard had massed.
They surrounded so quickly,
The sight so sickly.
They went down with just a scream,
From the freaks, they wrecked my dream.
I climbed the tree, my last hope.
My axe had finally broke.
And here i sit and wait
For the end of my grisly fate.