The Signals Of The End. (An Original Poetry)

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Caught halfway;
stuck in its tracks
a throbbing is halting.
a whisper erupts
like a volcanoe,
the floodgates opens
a veil is thorn
unmasking;
a scar running
endlessly into veins
and arteries.

These knees,
sinking faintly
on stabbing sand,
giving way,
your body; floating
in the air
as your tale is told
like Caligula.
falling mightyly in glory
as carcass and crown,
filth and rot.

You are an epitaph,
scribbled in my memory!
of bloodless wars
and empty strivings.
your voice;
brings a certain tremble,
like a feeling of fright
when a thousand chariots
hits naked streets
leaving blood and gore
in their wake.

Your eyes are letters,
that speaks of agony,
they're but lanterns
that keeps vigils
seeing stars
and counting,
numbering the constellations,
they have seen sights
as hideous as monsters,
sculpted in gloom

These Blisters and scars
speaks of emptiness,
a lonely road
that reeks of blankness
desolation is final destination,
a bus-stop
where we will hearing
the chirping of foreclosure
and the signals of the end