Hello, cold sudor of war—
How’ve you been?
Myself? Not so well.
I can’t kill your memory.
It comes as no surprise though—
I’ve been all I could be.
Your generals fed us to the hounds—
loosed through Cerberus’ teeth.
Then called your skeletons to march,
and haunt us in our sleep.
When you crowned us with your eternal flame.
You assented annihilation as war erased our
safest space.
Now the blood we cry-eth unto heaven—
Is lost on deafened ears.
Uneasy heroes’ stand in place.
As this rock forever spins
from cradle to eternity.
Our wounds were always open—
Apocalypse Bloom offers un-mercy.
Selfish hearts devour the young.
So abandon ship, abandon hope.
The vessel’s hull was breached—
Our boat no longer floats.
From dust to dirt.
We rise from earth.
And still, we find ourselves here.
When the world died,
it was the blackest of our days.
Yet we bent a knee before the graves—
as if thoughts and prayers could save face.
No guarantees our world will spin—
so if we don’t tune in,
inherent sorrows won’t be silent.
As our grief will never end.
Liars drank our gold.
Cowards burned our homes.
You struck the match.
You lit the fuse.
Now—
We’ll spit—not bow.
We’ll burn your stripes,
We’ll incinerate your dreaded fields.
-
Author:
C.W Bleu (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 24th, 2025 18:47
- Category: Sociopolitical
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments1
A strong surrealistic message in this apocalyptic poem of destruction. Nicely done
Thanks for coming back, I appreciate the support and feedback.
Ive been reading through your work and thoroughly enjoy each one. I can't seem to land on just one to leave a comment, I've enjoyed them all. Your poignant and you leave room in your works for them to breath. I'm actually inspired. I honestly was pleasantly surprised on this site because your command of words and your deep insight isn't what I expected on a free poem site (objective feedback is the only thing I know). It seems you've been on here for a while and I'm stoked you've taken the time to read and comment on my work.
This one is part of a larger piece called "Chronicles of Our Blackest Days", but I don't think this is the right platform for an epic. So, I'm just gonna release each section one at a time. The visuals are pulled straight form each poem, not clip art. There's 6 "chapters" with chapter one having 3 acts. Apocalypse Bloom is chapter one, act one.
Thank you again,
Have a good night
You are most welcome, for epics you might want to try Writer's Cafe and it is my pleasure
I’ll check it out. After fifty years though it’s a relief to finally have the words and the stones to put anything into the ether. I admit an “epic” was not what I intended and just saying it I feel pretentious. So, if I have to break it up I’m alright with that. At least this way I can slow roll it, seems kinda cool from here.
Good luck I'll be watching
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