All ended as it should

The last day passed without a dreadful sign,
No trumpets blared, no crimson flags unfurled—
Until a trembling hand, in cold design,
Pressed down the button that could end the world.

And in that instant, cities fell and burned,
And their skeletons to heaven sored,
While streets in silent radiance were turned
To crimson tides that all the towers drowned.

The bridges melted, iron screamed and tore,
In mortal anguish twisting out of shape,
And people—ash and dust just anymore –
Had no last cry or trying to escape.

But station clocks still ticked on, slow and deep,
As if they waited for some great reply:
Perhaps a dream?  Perhaps we mis-could keep—
How many times have humans been so blind?!

But no! The heavens flared to scarlet pain,
The sea boiled over like a blazing pot;
A massive wave engulfed the land and plain,
The air was poisoned, heavy, and hot.

And from the sky, the ash fell thick as snow!
The sun shone blind on earth now void and blind;
Dead smoke above the plains had ceased to flow,
And ruins breathed their dust into the dark.

Now through the rusted pipes the wind will stray,
And at the dawn it howls its mournful tune:
"All’s right. All ended as it should that day.
You willed to plunge into the abyss soon.

You killed the work of ages with your hands!
By foolish pride you doomed the living lands.
You nothing have to fear. All's gone. All passed.
And God alone knew this would come at last.";