The End of Time

Although I pray, it’s the end of the time.
The angel wakes up to flutter his wings.
Fluffing up the cloud’s pillow, he’s sublime.

Snowflakes are the angel’s feathers like spring.
They dance with the wind of change, in despair.
The sky glows pinkly in the shades of thing.

We’re like ill trees screaming into the air
With icy leaves and crystal hearts; we dream
Crystals of weeping tears in our prayer.

Within the sky, God is our bleeding scream,
Digging early graves in the war on crime
While our thread of love weaves wounds for life’s gleam.

Although I pray, it’s the end of the time.
Fluffing up the cloud’s pillow, he’s sublime.


Poem by Marieta Maglas

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About Marieta

Marieta Maglas is from Romania. She was born on May 1964. She graduated the University in her country in 1987. Her poems have appeared in some journals, including the Velvetillusion Literary Magazine Alabama,The Secret (La Revista) Italy, FWM Magazine US and Thu Trang Spain. Her poems were selected, and published on some anthologies at Xlibris, Sybaritic Press ( more specific it’s about the book Near Kin edited by Marie Lecrivain), at Prolific Press ( Three Line Poetry issue # 25) and others. She has been nominated at International Festival of Poetry in Canada and Mexico.

3 thoughts on “The End of Time

  1. ramesh rai

    Nice to read your poem . it makes me to think if I’m a part of this great write.Lovely write. Well done Marieta. Regards.


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