Come we now to the final moments,
When veil and mortal lines rent apart.
The darkness is upon its deepest course,
Plunging headlong into oblivion.
While silent innocence sleeps,
Our world crumbles.
A lone portal stands mirror black,
Waiting to strip clean it’s darkened lens.
Foundations fracture as pressure mounts,
Symbols of the elements burn bright.
The portal ripples straining at the edge,
Will it stand?
Only one way to know,
Mark your doors with golden circlets.
Hide yourselves within the pitch of your own fortress,
Shutting eyes against a rising tide of fear.
Breathe.
Hope.
And pray the darkness is no more when you awaken.
-M.E. InkOwl
This is the Sinister Countdown. If you liked this descent into maddness be sure to like and follow this month’s macabre passage. These stories, words, and poems come from the darker recesses of the mind behind the InkOwl. If you’d like to read past Sinister Countdown posts, follow the link below.
Thank you so much for being a part of this years Sinister Countdown! I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself thoroughly. If you are interested in being featured for the next Sinister Countdown please message me on my contact page!
