Doomsday

Walking thru the tunnel, he felt comfort,
He felt the comfort of strangers,
In their huddled masses was warmth.
Yet, certain trepidation cloyed his breath.
A longing for something intangible.
No God to pray to, no friend to beseech.
What did he need, he knew not.
His life was a quest, undiscovered truths,
Misbegotten tidings, all this and more.
The dripping of water broke him from his reverie,
Alerting him to a presence.
Dank air, putrescent with the odour of death,
Tugged at his awareness.
He reached out but found nothing.
He cried, for he knew that this was the answer.
This is what he had searched for all his life.
Now it was time to fade away.

© 2000, Mosquitobyte