Sticking with the apocalyptic theme.
In the beginning,
Nothing broke the silence of the night,
But the call of wolf and owl.
Nothing broke the darkness,
But the far-off stars,
And the terrifying, fluctuating moon.
In these last days,
Blood red clouds stream and scream in tatters,
Flames lick the coping of the skies.
Nothing breaks the searing light,
But the falling stars,
And the great, black void of the sun,
Where I still see your face.