Final Reckoning

Final Reckoning Murky day in my valley the mountain which Is a gigantic, petrified tidal wave of soil and boulders, is obscured today should it liquefy the vale will be a plateau with a story to tell but no one around to tell it too, except for mustangs that only cares about the quality of the grass. Perhaps some of us would live on in air pockets underground turning into earth worms while looking for a light switch we knew used to be on a wall while gulping stale air, not grasping that we are doomed; as a battery radio plays a dirge because the king is dead like that should be our chief concern on the day our valley disappeared.