Author: Andrew James Ball
The moon glistens over a quiet lake,
That is as still as glass,
That will soon come to pass,
As nothing more than ash.
Make no mistake,
For all is about to change.
All the creatures of this time,
Are at the hands of this monster.
It is coming ever closer,
Soon it will be all over with.
The bright star above my head,
Will soon make me dead,
As I prepare to take my last breath,
May my last hour on this earth,
Be more than itís worth.
I brace myself for the impact,
And hope that it will be fast.
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