Accordion

The accordion plays on and on,
Its player masked and humbly attired,
An apocalyptic accordionist,
Tight-lipped and stoic,
Longing for the end of all things.

On and on,
The world falls apart,
Flames jig to the tune,
The land quakes to each note,
Civilization gives a final emphatic applause.

The world moves to an inaudible drum beat,
Waiting for its execution,
The noose tightened,
And the guillotine lifted,
An accordion at the end of the world.

Each keystroke is a crescendo,
Each scale is a finale,
And each note is a curtain call,
An armageddon,
So the accordion may cease playing.

The end comes,
The accordion plays on.