Impending Doom

"It's coming, you know, the doom." Or so this is what they say.
The doom will be here shortly, and I have to stand in it's way.
I suppose I've been expecting it, waiting for the end,
a waiting every moment, every second that I spend.
It has inched it's way closer, deeper in my soul.
It's something you can't ignore, like a black-hair-sprouting mole.
I feel that it has drawn near,
I can tell by the waves of fear.
In a moment I will face this doom,
and I will end with a whimper, not a boom.


(Please keep in mind I hate poems, this was like pulling teeth.)


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com