Apocalypse

A poem for the Whispers of the Soul contest.

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When gloom aggravates,
Ghostly shadows of evil chase;
We sink and bemoan.

We grope for a new
hope but often in vain we
fumble and flounder.

Bright revelation
titillates and scintillates.
Aura of new hope.

Olive branches crack
Open and entwine themselves
Like flocking doves.

Mind elevated
to a noble, sublime peak
Now transpires.

Form: Chained haiku
Words: Revelation, Aggravate, Elevated