Somehow, through the veins wasting
you couldn't see anything.
You missed those careful notes,
the climbing hopes.
Unusual as water flowing uphill,
Strangely creeping,
this blatant rebellion against gravity,
as if the world would explode any minute.

I sigh into the apocalypse,
placing some gargoyles onto my eves
and making a dusky cup of peppermint tea.
This doomsday like any other,
wintery, red and sleepy,
drowning in apathy.