The Second Coming: A New Dawn


The world is dark, the sky is torn,
A storm of shadows, hearts forlorn.
The winds, they howl, the earth does moan,
For something stirs, its voice unknown.


The centuries pass, the ages fade,
Yet in the quiet, hearts are laid—
A seed of doubt, a spark of fear,
A whisper soft, too sharp to hear.


And now it comes, the waking cry,
The thunder’s call, the tear in sky.
The heavens split, the gates unbar,
The second coming, near and far.


What shape it takes, we cannot know,
A figure bright or shadowed low.
A beast, a king, a voice divine,
The world awaits, an end to time.


The streets are empty, whispers loud,
The skies are dark, the thunder proud.
The stars collide, their light runs thin,
And something stirs, beneath our skin.


We’ve built our cities, strong and grand,
We’ve crowned ourselves, we’ve made our stand.
But now the ground begins to shake,
And all we’ve built begins to break.


The heavens crack, the air turns cold,
The story written, yet untold.
The prophets cried, the seers wept,
But in the dark, no promises kept.


The Second Coming—what does it bring?
A crown, a crown, a broken wing?
A king, a king, who wears no crown,
To tear the walls of cities down?


The earth begins to tremble deep,
The waters rise, the angels weep.
A fire burns across the night,
A spark that blazes, fierce and bright.


The kingdoms fall, the empires fade,
The mighty cease, the weak invade.
The rich, the poor, the strong, the weak,
The truth they sought, yet never speak.


For in the end, we’re all the same,
Caught in the storm, caught in the flame.
The Second Coming, a force unknown,
Unseen, unheard, yet fully grown.


What will it be, this final hour?
A land reclaimed, a rising tower?
Or peace, or peace, or endless night,
A world reborn in shattered light?


The horses ride, the winds do churn,
The fires rage, the stars do burn.
The earth below begins to crack,
A voice says, “There is no turning back.”


The cities fall, the mountains break,
The oceans rise, the earth does quake.
The mighty sun begins to fade,
And in its place, a darkened shade.


But in the dark, a voice does call,
A cry that rises, deep and tall.
“It is not death that you must fear,
But what you’ve done, and what you’ve here.”


The time has come, the hour’s near,
The truth reveals its face so clear.
No crown, no throne, no mighty hand,
Just hearts and souls, the final stand.


The world will change, the world will fall,
The Second Coming will not call
For riches, power, or the crown,
But for the truth that’s lost, and found.


What is the truth, what is the claim?
A world reborn, a world of shame?
A place of light, or endless night,
Where all will see the final fight?


The Second Coming, the world’s rebirth,
A time to reckon all our worth.
To look within, to find the way,
To see the truth, to end the sway.


For in the end, we must decide,
To stand and fight, or turn and hide.
The Second Coming brings the light,
Or swallows all in endless night.


The storm shall pass, the skies will clear,
The Second Coming, drawing near.
And when it comes, we’ll see the face
Of truth, of love, of endless grace.


The time has come, the hour is here,
The Second Coming, born of fear.
But in the dark, a light will rise,
A truth that shines beyond the skies.


So let the storm rage on, let it be,
For in the end, we all will see,
The Second Coming, a force unknown,
A world reborn, a truth overthrown.



This poem draws inspiration from the apocalyptic and transformative imagery of The Second Coming, exploring themes of societal collapse, divine reckoning, and personal awakening. It reflects the uncertainty and anticipation of a profound change, challenging the reader to reflect on their own place in the world and the choices that define humanity's future.


Second Coming, apocalyptic, transformation, reckoning, divine, change, future, society, truth, awakening, fate, rebirth, chaos, humanity.

Location: United States

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