Coreolic Fire.

LEIF
Pardon me, but isn't this,
atom bombs exploding in
deathly clouds of hazy sin,
finally the denouement
planet Earth's been waiting for?

MĒSHA
Out the window, plenty more
death spheres make their way to ground.
Orchestra of sweet relief
following the toxic reef?
Playing to the soft brigade
Sunday comes and Sunday leaves,
darkening all Christmas Eves.
Maybe, friend, you are correct.
Terra Prime is at its close.

LEIF
Toss me, then, into the throes.