Final

Debris pouring down and Crushing against a crystal ground. Raindrops like knives That pierce through the thin ice To stray in the depths, And the rain, it fades as cotton, It dies in the blue ocean But the fusion of colours takes place only after the end of the world At war outside. The veil is a curtain of blurry waters now, A red front too low and too high to climb. It is the end of the world and you know it.