So the countdown clock begins
as the world takes its final breathe
before it settles into rubble and dust,
a chorus of humanity appears
we fought for them, not for us
Then the road gets chiselled apart
separating half of our choir
and thunder and mist will rise
and we will lose the path
and in our final moments
we have each other
and if that is not what matters
what is?
The clock will strike