an armistice of grandeur
when the world was left
a thing of destructed beauty.
no one was sure
why the gods had sent
such fury down;
but they never did reveal
their altruistic desires
to the quick,
who were ruining the sanctity of their earth
as fast as the gods tried to save it.
to complain of mere instances
like storms and vacant suns,
one would think
they were being robbed of breath,
none to spare,
armageddon impending.
pity in numbers for them,
fools who would escape under the sheets,
mourn the passing of sobering light
and commit suicide over scrupulous thoughts
that the rain will never cease
again.
04.2010
No comments:
Post a Comment