The world was made in seven days
or so the story goes.
The end shall come in less than one
expunging this world of woes.
A proud man, our death will bring
unable to back down.
He'll build himself a situation
then nod, with a frown.
The fiery flowers begin to blosom,
bright and shining in the dawn.
And he stands alone and staring
with an expression drawn.
His grief is great, his life he ends,
the lesson he finally learns,
but too late did he repent
and so the fire burns.
Something inspired by a Cold War novel and my odd, odd mind.