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At end of times
The people come
To see the flaming tree
On porches dark
Awash with blood
They fall upon their knees
And little hopes
Are cut adrift
By slow and harsh degrees
The flaming tree
Will burn the ground
And shine eternally
Our spirits lost
Like flotsam cut
Adrift on endless seas
Yet crueller still
The mewing cries
Of those still so in need
Before the flames
We offer up
Our hearts so they may bleed
At end of times
The people come
To see the flaming tree
One soul is saved
But little one
It isn’t you or me
(c) Helen M Valentina 2016
The Darker Realms 
Wonderful, Helen I did hope I would be saved but at least I’ll be with my friends.
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Lol, very true John. When I saw this scheduled one came up today, because I write and schedule months in advance, I thought how apt – though entirely accidental – it happened at the same time as the U.S. Presidential election….hopefully just coincidence and not prophetic, lol!!!! 🙂
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Me too. 🙂
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