Ending History

The cobbled streets in the city of spires,  
a mundane morning yet the charm inspires
the high streets of glory, stories of rivendale
It’s just a fantasy, of a young man and his fairy tale
 
On a grayish day, the perched goblin has its eyes stray
and the crazy faces on the walls hiding away, not to become a prey  
they young man walks, cherishing that gloomy day
as he meets a women that was sweeping his feet away
 
an ordinary folk would imagine that it’s the poetry of bard  
cryptic writings upon the Turl is not taking their worlds apart  
but to the river of Magdelin, to rent a long boat with a punt  
where lovers knock on each other, with a pint after a duck hunt  
 
such was the craziness living with the spires in the shire  
green meadows with the summers breeze, train ride to Wiltshire  
when Gandalf and Dumbledore, were dancing on the corridor  
a drunk Mary Poppins was hopping from door to door
 
The Turl and the Turf, was a walk away from the Head of the River
Eagle and Child and the Kings Arms was cold and gave the shivers  
None of these made any sense and I’m having a very high fever
Aches and pains, my energy is totally drained, will I recover  
 
reality is a turd and nothing about it is actually absurd  
its life throwing you punch, and a sucker punch, yet it’s not weird
and the peaceful world comes tumbling down and gets shattered  
droplets of rain, freezing over on its way down, and my world is battered  
 
the high street’s serenity disappears, an anarchy appears
at the frontiers of a wet market, the craziness of the asymptomatic racket
bootlegging and smuggling the wild animals are playing croupiers
letting the chaos erupt yet protecting those in the elitist bracket
 
was it a bat or a rat and yet it germinates with the pangolin
hot scotch and rum, a deadly mix when you play the violin  
a contraband in a holiday van, yet no one understands  
Yet at the wet market, where they all took a stand
 
It’s not just a cold Ms Marygold, it’s a virus that can kill us
empire of the sun or twenty one, the planet in 3 months was on its knees
Submitting to an invisible enemy that everyone knows it dangerous  
But I am still concerned, after all of this, will the world remain in peace?

On the screen the credits roll    
who will be the next director  
endangered earth as the titles scroll    
will god be our protector?    
    
I gaze into my crystal ball    
and I see no human form    
that harbinger has reaped its toll    
no hand to scribe, all gone before    
   
The shelf where history was all wrote    
all archived, the virus edited all books    
just evolutions right to cope    
 nature, all man's seasons now revoked    
   
In that spring clean,  past wiped away    
 the alien that came was it man made ?    
assign our planet to a mass grave    
to start again on a clean page    
   
But who is there to wield a spade    
read the last rights for the planet    
rewind and delete all saved    
the sexton beetles hunger vanish    
 

 
In the days when hate and racism came more to light
Scientists spoke of a virus like end of the world prophets
But the rich and elite went against their advice out of spite
Because they were too focused on gains and profits

Then when governments began to crumble within
Weak leaders failed them as they died by the masses
While the privileged in their mansions sipped on gin
They helped build a bigger rift between the two classes

But this disease didn’t care about any social status
As it crept through every continent, nation and race
And though many denied it’s existence with malice
It took them too leaving a trail of bodies in it's place

Ignorance and indifference helped spread a virus
A war fought valiantly in hospital rooms and halls
Doctors and nurses were at the front line of a crisis
And like soldiers they too fell amidst medical calls

Day by day the world came to a heartbreaking end
As many fought bravely for life and all that is worth
Hate and disease were the enemy as history penned
Leaving a select few to continue life on this earth

When glaciers melt and oceans rise
and people live only on mountain
tops even then will I love you.  
When we’ve poisoned all the air
and the planet is gasping and chocking,
with my last breath I will shout I love you.  
When all we know has passed away
and we’re traveling through nothing,
going nowhere, at the very edge of that black hole
my soul will scream, I love you.
The scream is joined, the silence broken,
the dark closes in, the roar splits the darkness,
a sliver of light, love escapes, the person wakes up terrified,
Was this just a dream or does the battle continue?