Atomic Apocalypse Shape Version

The horsemen have arrived on their menacing mares. Whose stiletto hoofed horseshoes click-clack on which Achromatic static staccatos inside ultraviolet light. As vidalian dampened eyes drip with verid veneers before the mounted steeds, embrocations of nuclear infernos' fumes simmer in cimmerian shades; A penumbral eclipse galloping atop the sickened sky. Diaries dug from the barren breasts of Chernobyl inscribed cautionary caveats of the terrace's truncation, just as the kudzu and its vehicular veins suck from its captured praying prey, the mushroom's sombrero barb grabs in gross excess all around. No more shall the zephyr sing with azaelian thistles, No more shall the blackened dahlias dance in this dungeon we've become. No more shall lightening lick the leathery lands of ozone. At last the poisoned atom's apple has been bitten. Down it goes through the three mile throat that thickens with silica, Oxidizing the once electric crepuscules of the toad's croak. And at last this system of solar spheres will be but a dream, Hidden away and locked with skeletal keys behind the mind.