Endings and Beginnings

Smoke billows in tangled tendrils
The slimline fumarole glows blood red
Atop a terraced watchtower
An angelic bowman stands his guard
Nose briefly wrinkled in dislike
As a quarreling clamor fills the air
This fissure in the planet's core
This new entrance to the Gates of Hell
Filled the bowman with great unease
This desolation feels familiar...

Remains of a careless people
Who had long ago fled from this world
Leaving behind the laggard few
The gaudiness of their existence
Had assured this planet's slow death
The Excavator had since arrived
His job to complete The Cycle
But those left had formed a Resistance
Fueled by their misdirected rage
Coerced by fear of what lies beyond
Still they refused to recognize
The destruction their choices had wrought
The angels met their war in kind
Though a dying race has little fight

A rumble fills the earth below
The Time is drawing ever closer
The Bowman shifts his gaze downward
A lone man stands
 the last of his kind
His stare pointedly defiant
As the Bowman notches an arrow
He heaves a sigh
 swallowing his qualms
Almost grudgingly he takes aim
The arrow flies true
The lone man falls
The planet trembles faster now
The Excavator's job now finished
The souls of those trapped in darkness
Begin pouring from the Great Abyss
Sharp white light fills the Bowman's eyes
As souls alchemize becoming one
Providing their world a new breath
The Bowman smiles
The cycle completes

He can feel the planet's heartbeat drumming