Contained within a kernel shell,

Easy to be snatched up by a pigeon and flown away.

Hardly a sentiment that would lead one to soar,

But perhaps nestled within a nest of possibilities.

Caged, but still contained enough to where

Domestic interiors see the end and implode with excitement.

The end is here,

Some cry in havoc, arms raised to the sky.

If it weren’t for the sandwich boards dangling

They might be more credible.

The concerns to make rent, make payments creates so much chaos.

One might feel rigid and broken in a manner that fosters

Shades of dark and reversed thoughts.

However, the mental repetition of

The end is near

The end is near

Rings true within your mind.

It is close,

But is running much too late.