Ideal
The wind trampled through the rows of rotten flowers.
The world crumbled within the hunger of powers.
After the bloody war of loathe, the fate decides.
For who will survive under the crash of the tides.
Corpses piled up to the mountains high above.
Streams of scarlet flowed through as if a broken love.
Trust, kindness and love. The sweetest past of them all.
Lies, cruel and hate. The truest present of them all.
What has humanity become? Monsters? Sadists?
Where was the once perfect past? Buried in the mists?
Was this the end of life? Was this the last sunset?
Perhaps, eons after, may the whole world reset.
A different space, where people live in harmony.
A new place where nobody relies on money.
Then, may this wish come true. Then, may this dream be real.
Else, what was true? Everything was just an ideal.
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The Leaf Of Life
PoetryA bunch of poems I wrote and keep on writing Some positive, some negative...
