Every night, safe in bed
While the world is slowly dying
A wondrous escapism fills my head
And stationary, I dream of flying.
As clouds sag with toxic dust
And humanity dwindles and hollows
I am stirred by the smallest gust
To imagine myself among the swallows
Earth cultivates a man-made dystopia
And people forget to love
The world grows sick as I grow older
But remains unnoticed by the sky above
Billions have died, and the thousands left will
Our planet is smothered in the dying
But I look up to the skies, and still -
On the ground, I dream of flying.
YOU ARE READING
Random Poetry
PoetryThis is mainly just for when I feel like writing but not writing one of my novels, but I figured I would upload the poems in case anyone else relates to them, or finds them interesting :) Some are personal, some are set in a fictional world, some ar...
