Apocalyptic Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

Garden of Hope

100 times I have watched the flower burn
That bright flower that watches with hope 
Before the cruel sky sends It's hateful lightening to raze it's roots. 
Still my garden of hope regrows until again the lightening strikes.
Will all that's left soon be a garden of ashes and tears?

The ABCs of Surviving The End Of The World

Always remember to pack the essentials,
Bat, Bottle, Bag, Boots,
Cut down anyone who tries to get in the way,
Don't look them in the eye, it only makes it harder,
Enemy, everyone is the enemy, yes, even them,
Find what you can, anything, you'll need it later,
Get up, you don't have time to rest, not yet,
How have you survived this long?

Imagine a better world, running water, safety,
Jokes are the only thing keeping you going,
Kill or be killed, even when its all over,
Like an animal, lose yourself in the fray,
Most of them aren't even people anymore,
Notice how they don't look you in the eye,
Only you are left, Only you can rescue them,
Persevere, soon it'll all be back to normal.

Quick, you have to run, to escape, 
Run, run, doesn't matter to where or why,
Stop and you are dead, run, run,
Today is the day, its all over, you can't escape-
Unless you remember the ABCs,
Very good, recall everything I've taught you,
When the end finally comes and its all over,
Xenial little thing you are, listening to me.

You will be safe from the onslaught,
Zealot of the new world order.

Apocalyptic desolation

Writing writing on the wall
I see the future
Soon to call
What's to come
Will surely pass
I'm not afraid
For it won't last
The sun will rise
And it will set
What's Meant to be
Hasn't happened,
Yet!
But it will
I have no doubt
While I'm here
Or after I'm out
So many possibilities
For me to think about
Will it come
In rain of fire
Freezing cold
An artic Myer
Dropped like bombs
In World War 3
It is coming
When will that be?
Somethings brewing
Before my eyes
I hear the warnings,
Know the lies
They try to confuse
The truth in a disguise
My heart can feel
The dark black cloud
Above my head
It's thunders loud
I'm awake
Unlike the dreaming
That we are safe
While the world 
Is scheming 
There will be
Nowhere to run
Deaths at my door
I'll fight
Til it's done
But this war
Cannot be won
They have the power
And we are out gunned
Sheeple people
Line up to fall
The plan from the beginning
Is to kill us all


Premium Member A Lighthearted Peek At The Apocalyptic World Of Poetry Contests

This contest style’s description is one I’ve never heard
I’m unfamiliar with that particular word 
An internet search comes up empty 
However, others seem to have poems aplenty 
My eyes are getting blurry a total collapse seems imminent 
Quickly penning an entry appears to be the only way out of my predicament 
My freshly emerged imposter’s syndrome is now on full display
As I throw words together to prayerfully send a piece on its way
Whoops, I don’t believe the lines above were exact rhymes
I wonder if I will get disqualified this time 
I see it is quintessential to utilize the word “quintessential”
Unfortunately, that stretches me to also use a word like “nonextensile”
Argh!  I just realized I’m not counting my meter
I promise I’m not purposefully being a cheater 
Oh well, competitions are all in good fun, 
   even if they drive you a bit crazy
You just have to be creative, put in the work, 
   and not . . . something, something lazy

Beneath the Shattered Sky

In a world filled with despair 
The smell of fear fills the air 
The world we once knew is far gone 
Debris from the blast litters every lawn 
They forced us all underground 
Advising us not to make a sound

We once lived the days through 
But they wanted something new 
A world with no war 
That of which they swore 
The world we lived in would soon be great 
We thought of this not knowing our fate

We walk along the only street 
The others are obsolete 
The bunker collapsed in on itself 
As if it was a broken shelf 
With nothing left to give 
We ask ourselves if we should still live

Rose Meadow: In the Future, There Will Be No Meadows

In the Future, there will be no rose meadows, a desolate barren hellscape of ecocide normalized. The bleakness of reality
made possible by the dominion of the Earth. 

Corporations contaminate the atmosphere we once breathed. They poisoned the air so they could sell gas masks to our children. 
Oxygen, water have become luxuries.

Preparing for a death long waiting for us. 
A prophecy where the eighth fire 
will never be lit. Skin feels feverish before 
the sun scorches us all into ashes.


Premium Member The Apocalyptic Period

Our beautiful blue planet billions of years old
A matchless marvel in the cosmic architecture
Survived eons of trying times in hostile space
Endured the disrupting tectonic turmoil untold.

Fostered the diversified life in the tree of evolution
Nurtured the pristine innate splendor of nature
Amidst the enveloping noxious haze heinous
Of the suffocating industrial pollution of progress. 

As the stride of civilization crosses the Rubicon line
The mankind will enter the stark dismal terrain of doom
Trip the critical balance usurping the green canopy 
Veil the fragile ecosystem with the smoke of growth wild.

The sustainable limits are being infringed ever so rapidly
After long summer the planet might freeze in extended winter
Caused by the catastrophic climate change looming large
To initiate the apocalyptic period of the fifth season.

_________________

November 5, 2022
Contest : The Fifth Season
Sponsored by : Anthony Biaanca

Premium Member Apocalyptic Fury

Lest the moon tip over and spill the blood,
With apocalyptic fury signaling the climax
In history as in the days of old Noah’s flood,

When the earth resettles like paraffin wax,
Forming new boundaries in the land and sea
With apocalyptic fury signaling the climax,

People of every nation will hopelessly flee
Before the great and terrible day of the Lord
Forming new boundaries in the land and sea.

Rising from below comes the thundering horde
Incredibly horrific creatures before unknown
Before the great and terrible day of the Lord.

Humanity never again occupying the throne
Nor understanding the myriads roaming about,
Incredibly horrific creatures before unknown.

Comes the archangel with a triumphal shout,
Lest the moon tip over and spill the blood,
Nor understanding the myriads roaming about 
In history as in the days of old Noah’s flood. 

Written October 19, 2022

Premium Member Apocalyptic Rituals

the nuclear snakes
   slither into disaster
warheads waiting 
   in the dithering wings

~~~!~~~X~~~#~~~>>>

light explodes
darkness erupts
fiery projectiles 
  obliterate without mercy



the reptilian warlords
  fumble through flames
apocalypse waiting
  amid withering declarations

Lesson One

this is a painful math class,
and operations never had to be nice to us.
this is how life martyrs those who have been weakened by their own faults.
the desert is there to prove that pain is born from thirst.
if the hungry locomotives swallow what they see,
there is nothing indecent about the mountain if it slides deadly over the valley.
atoms didn't ask permission when they came together to form us.
letters arranged in dissonant words can also create important sentences.
the sun's indifferent arrogance does not make it superior to the moon and its indulgent light.
we are being carried through the galaxy at this absurd speed
by the same rotor that keeps our mutual neurosis concentric.
one day the flood will become devastation
and turn everything into clay so that we can be molded again.

The Flashlight

The obstacles and dangers are rarely seen
Walking with no lamp in the cold dark night.
When the big moon hides behind the screen,
Flashlight fills the mood in transparent light.

Beyond the scary realm unseen noises reign, 
From the abandon overgrown world, 
My nature is clear when the flashlight flame
Bring something incomprehensible into my soul.

Weary nights cloaked in the static darkness
My breath being the only sound without sight,
Flashlight in the night being a guardian of bliss
Turning the dark environment into pure light.

Apocalyptic corridors use the night shadows
For the clandestine haunting complex.
But my flashlight is like the old battle arrows
Fly, through the air meet doppelganger reflect.

In the night, seeing flashes of neon light 
Our universe waiting for tomorrow to come 
flashlight blinding strobe move the frighten sight
to dawn, till all the goose bumps are done.

Premium Member Pre Apocalyptic-

Dirty hearts 
Unaturally diseased
Covered molded spots 
Resuscitating streams deserts on fire
Oceans beds dissolving
Don't eat the food 
Don't!  Your bread sour 
Tasting sugar sweetened sauce 
Salt filthy clouds 
Dirty air raindrops fall 
Where's the rainbow
Climates falling 
Nature stalling 
Global warming 
California burning 
Dirty hearts unnaturally dressed 
Free apocalyptic end of the world, I digress?

10/3/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020

Apocalyptic

Who knew 
us parting the other day
was the last time in a while.
Closed my eyes and woke up to
Climbing numbers on phone screens;
Who knew 
if it buzzes again
bad news could come.
In the snap of fingers 
Plans made were a call of ideas.
Here I stayed in a foreign land
Home is thousands of miles away
Fear is in the hearts;
Mind is on the news.
Faces in my photo albums
came knocking with cheers and smiles.
Thought it was funny-
we joked about it.
And the worse is yet to come.
Who knew
I'm now one of the many
Fleeing the scene.
Boarded on a flight,
with my heart pounding loud
For myself
And for the ones on the fight.
It's apocalyptic. 
For everyone I knew
never saw this coming.
Till we meet again. 
Soon enough.

Lay Down Your Arms

Lay Down Your Arms
by Michael R. Burch

Lay down your arms; come, sleep in the sand.
The battle is over and night is at hand.
Our voyage has ended; there's nowhere to go . . .
the earth is a cinder still faintly aglow.

Lay down your pamphlets; let's bicker no more.
Instead, let us rest here on this ravaged shore.
The sea is still boiling; the air is wan, thin . . .
lay down your pamphlets; now no one will “win.”

Lay down your hymnals; abandon all song.
If God was to save us, He waited too long.
A new world emerges, but this world is through . . .
so lay down your hymnals, or write something new.

If I remember things correctly, I wrote this poem in my early twenties, probably as a college sophomore or junior. It was one of my first acceptances by a literary journal, The Romantist. But I never received a copy, so I can’t be sure it was actually published, drat!

To Hope Apocalyptic

He leaned on his sword
They had asked for backup
He had arrived in time
The bloodied waters..
Was all he could now fathom
Summoned to avert..
A crises of epic proportions
The price was but too high
The cry ascending 
To the very heavens
Whispers of mercy..
Angels descending..
The battle had raged fierce
But now they had a lull
The worst was over
Yet why did he feel so empty
To hope and trust..
His calling was but just

Sub Categories

Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace