…and the people shall drown, and bodies shall float down the street, seven high and seven wide and the sky shall be torn back, stars burning down. People will stand mute, their heads turned upwards and their hearts turned inwards as the heavens tumble down, tears falling with them.
the earth will sunder and the black depths will rush up to meet the sodden roots of trees, as their branches grasp and grapple before they finally tumble into the depths - pulled deep by the pillaging ink grasp of unseen hands. Graves long buried will spill out like mal-born babies, bones curled round, foetal. Empty eye sockets will once again stare at the sky as it boils red and purple, bruising with pain.
natures hands will run rampant, tearing and groping over the bodies of the dead; moss will burst forth and forever cover us and hold us silent.
…and the rain comes falling from the sky, and he walks through the streets, four horses at his back, and Hell steps forth, teeth bared with joy and fury.
