It all crashed down around me

Basically, I'm not a poet, I'm a novelist. That's why it seems like if I feel like I need to write something poetic, it comes out like this: LONG.

It all crashed down around me,
I feel my mind is lost.
The world was once a boundary,
Except the line was crossed.

I opened my thoughts to wander,
The tracks they seemed so bright.
I cannot help but wonder,
Why the stars they shine at night.

Does heaven ever ponder,
On the realms it govs so fair?
Are the angels ever tired,
Or do they sleep up there?

As it fell around me,
Those thoughts I once did hold.
I felt the thousand kisses,
Of whispers in the cold.

They warned me of the trials,
Of pain and suffering there.
I heard them tell me, child,
Don’t fret over us up here.

We do not need your pity,
We feel not loss or shame.
The world is all a witness,
We live to play the game.

The tongues of scions old,
Of majesties of late.
The olden ways of history,
The waxen test of fate.

I shuddered when they told me,
Those giant lords of doom.
That we are all a testament,
To how each heart makes room.

I am not a person,
Yet person I must be.
If all the world cries out,
You are you, I am me.

But how can we sing,
When the world is dying fair?
When the trees are choking,
From bitter loss of air?

I cannot see too far,
Cannot cast my eyes,
My vision is confronted,
By those who me despise.

They call me out as traitor,
Cast me from my throne,
Burn my only picture,
Raze my family home.

I’m told it’s for the best,
That it’ll only last a while.
Before they move to a new one,
A fresh topic to defile.

Am I only talking?
The wind of stagnant air?
Or am I making sense?
Is there any comfort there?

I do not ask for pity.
Like those voices from above,
I only ask for patience.
I cannot ask for love.

A time will come when darkness,
Descends upon my land,
The world will shatter starkly,
With what we hold in hand.

Perhaps you’ll see it coming,
That waste of precious hope.
Perhaps you’ll feel the time,
As you are slipping down the slope.

Will you cry out in anger?
Fear for that you lost?
Or will you mutter softly,
About the ultimate cost?

I fear the time has neared,
That my destiny is at hand.
Will you remain silent,
As you take your last stand?

Hope crumbles only,
When the last leg is gone.
Angels ring the last sound,
Trumpets loud and long.

Maybe we can find at last,
That final scope of truth.
That tiny grasp of innocence,
We strangled in our youth.

Swiftly how she falters,
That Soul that we forgot.
Can we champion salvation,
When we scorn what we are not?