Curtains descend... for the end of this small play called History.
We gods sound our applause - some rapturous, some a little bored.
That it had to end in total tragedy was hardly a mystery,
Nothing is sweeter than a heroic failure to the heavenly Lords.
After all, we wouldn't want competition;
Merely to entertain, that was your mission.
Your fate might easily have proved worse;
For you there was no better purpose.
From our seat in the stars, we took in the breadth of your woe,
Your joy and your sorrow, surveying your mortal voyage from afar.
A catastrophe, yes; But a comedy, also.
Creating mischief amongst you made our merriment glow.
Catastrophic tides, scorching Volcanoes,
Earthquakes galore, and oh-so-much more. How we adored
Fabricating and then obliterating your tiny hopes.
Disease, starvation, war - the standard tropes.
They may be cliché, but still amuse us in their way.
Such is only fitting, for mere animate clay.
BOOM! Thus goes your last hurrah; we shout 'Hurray!'.
Didn't you sacrifice enough? Did you forget to pray?
Haha! You poor fools! That was all a ruse, a ploy to add to your dismay.
If we chose for a moment your bitter suffering to allay,
That was but a short delay, just for a passing day.
O, Look how I rhyme and dance with such glee,
Upon all the broken bones of your pathetic misery!
See how I skate upon your empty plate,
And happily mate with entrails of your hapless fate.
So in love, so erotic, and though it may seem so misanthropic...
We are gods, and to us your mortality was something so exotic.
In you we tasted transience as some delicious farmyard dish.
Forgive us if we could not grant your every heart-felt wish.
It would have deprived us of fun had we been that squeamish.
A 'God of love'? That's fair enough. But don't begrudge a little
schadenfreude from those above!
O passing dust, you thought you could become as gods amongst us;
Your technology, with such guts and energy, aimed for the Heavens.
How beautifully ironic that it struck only the abyss.
As for those others who pinned their hopes on Messiahs and 777s-
Those fools we shan't much miss !
Like all good plays, of course it finally ends.
But, all in all, you put on a brave show..so as you take your dying sips:
WE SALUTE YOUR APOCALYPSE!