The Fireballs

There was a day that I believed,
when I looked up with hopeful eyes,
only to see fireballs falling towards me.
You looked up too,
but you just saw the sun and clouds above us.
Why was it that only I could see
the impending doom coming for us?

I never actually saw your face,
for I was far too focussed on what might occur
to even consider looking anywhere else.

Years passed and the fireballs grew closer,
but they projected no heat
and their light was too dim to notice,
but I still saw them.

The days and nights went by slowly
and I'd lie on the ground outside
staring up at the sky.
I found a strange comfort in these fireballs
as they felt like the only real thing around me.
By this time they were getting closer,
to everyone else, the sun became brighter,
but I knew the truth.

Some nights I'd break down into a panic,
knowing that any day now I would die,
and I knew it but no one else did.
The thought made my throat tight
and my breathing shallow.
Tears would gently fall from my eyes
and onto the paper I was writing on,
making the ink run.

I didn't know what to write,
or who to write to, but I tried.
I wrote about my childhood
and the stories I was told
at a young age.
I wrote about science and religion
and anything else I deemed important at the time.
But I tore up the paper each time
and would just cry.

I knew my tears served no purpose
other than a release of my fear
but I couldn't stop myself from crying.

Time passed and my life continued
as an empty human being
waiting for death to come.

It was that day that the fireballs hit.

I remember lying on the ground
emotionless
watching the fireballs come
and the people run around.
I stayed there until my time had come,
and just as it all began,
it all ended so soon.