It went like this;

The buildings toppled in on themselves.

Mothers clutching babies,

pick through the rubble

and pulled out their hair.

The skyline was beautiful on fire

all twisted metal stretching upwards.

Everything washed in a thin orange haze.

I said, “Kiss me, you’re beautiful, these are truly the last days.”

You grabbed my hand and we fell into it,

like a daydream or a fever.

We woke up one morning and fell a little further down

for sure it’s the valley of death.

I open up my wallet, and it’s full of blood.

[Train horn]