Deca-Dense

Foreboding of silky streaks through the oppressive sky.
Coming this way, the sickly fingers of a living cloud
Enshroud the sunlight in shadows, masking the proud
Rays from the viewer, skewer the hope up high.

Now the evil has enveloped the earth.
Acid rain flows downwards in a constant stream,
Tainting the gleam into scream, turning dream
Into nightmare: you find that nobody cares.

The pestilence acquires momentum as it races
Through the sea of faces, but they can't detect
It's presence; they don't have sense
Enough to witness their emptiness.

Enough! The end is near, do you hear the shout
As you amble about? It's closer than you think.
This is not fake; your world is at stake,
Make no mistake; it's too late to change.

The storm shatters your resolution,
The earth stops its revolution...
Now you find that you're all alone with a heart of stone
In a field of laughter, that is what they were after.