blood, disaster, war
all so frantic in nature
but isn't there a certain element
that makes their nomenclature...
obsolete?
there's beauty in chaos
crimson rivers, lifeless bodies multiplied
an adrenaline rush
makes all thought intensified...
primal.
there's beauty in chaos
eyes widen and fingers twitch
panic floods the mind
and the brain hits a simple switch...
survival.
there's beauty in chaos
where worth is determined
not by who you were
but by the sword.
YOU ARE READING
musings of a flighty teenager
Poetrya bunch of poetry about feelings and unjust situations
