The end of the world

Here we are: the world is falling,
Preachers damn but keep on calling,
Heavens fall to ground and roll...
Love me, dear, above this all.

Hold my hand while others shout
And mountains' flames are bursting out.
In spite of prophecy and fate
Love me, dear, before it's late.

.

.

love him..rather.

the world has gone...it was never there, rather!
things are too late to happen,
Don't ask for love, as it is late.
Now your turn...love.... in return!

hmmm...well... your poem is beautiful.
A dark ray of hope.
Simple. Beautiful.

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