So this is how it ends -
Days of thunder without rain,
Skies the colour of pain,
Air exhaled by Satan's friends.
Could there be new beginnings -
Birds rising from the ashes,
Fish that thrive in the heat,
And weeds that taste like meat?
No, we are the damned –
Chosen to die in a scorched climax,
Without understanding anything,
Deceived by almost everything.
