The Great Day of His Wrath- a poem

Hi there,

Another poem with a very different subject from the Tate. This is based on Northumbrian artist, John Martin’s painting from 1851-3. I hadn’t seen any of his work for ages. I think I saw his Sodom and Gomorrah piece years and years ago. he has a knack for big landscapes. I couldn’t come close to the breadth of the subject, so I stuffed it into a couple of haikus.

The Great Day of His Wrath

Red Sun retreats,
Weakened light shrouded in blood,
Clouds and death arrive.

We lie down to die,
Lack even strength to endure,
our pathetic end.

Thanks for reading. Another one tomorrow.

Richard

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