Posted by: Pucadyil | February 3, 2010

The End of Time

I remember once, travelling on a mountain road
the fog started to gather and we stopped
and stood at a turn where I could barely see
the valley below as it lost its features
and disappeared in a whimper.

Then a silence as the earth held its breath
and the birds stopped their chatter
the murmur of the wind became a hush
and then stopped altogether
as if pondering the gloom.

While an unearthly glow covered me like a blanket
I thought that perhaps death would be like this
when memories disappear slowly one by one
leaving you with no sense of the past
the end of time; going, going, going.

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