Poem: End of the World

So this is the end of the world
when all ships have been docked into port,
There's no train to be caught, and we all must get off.
Disaster is thick in the air. 

So please, just a tonic and gin, 
for tonight I must face all my sin.
Yes please, on the rocks—pour it quick, ere he knocks—
It's too late, he is already in!

So now all of histry's unfurled, 
and all souls have been brought into court.
Now to face what you wrought, and your judgement to quaff.
Be assured, what you get will be fair.