End of Days

As the months of winters toil, freed the blankets of the past.

As the quarter master sounded the unholy trumpet blast.

As the crescent moon was falling, through the pinholes in the sky.

I watched this planet fading, beneath a scarlet dye.

No one knew the watcher, no one knew my task.

A solitary sentinel, a position which could not last.

As Neptune unleashed the Kraken, the Djinn danced in the sand,

 cloven footsteps returned, in snow throughout the land.

As the ignorance of the masses, gave way to fear and dread.

This sentinel wearily closed his eyes, rested back his head.

With the end of days upon us, the prophecy proven true.

I can all but smell the brimstone, God help us, me and you.