We look from afar with no sense
fire cracks ashes up in flames of crisps and shackles
fingers grip the edge, fear seeping into his eyes.
He fights a hopeless battle
tress may seem lifeless to you
but they spark and ignite in vital shields.
These fields I look across,
they resemble barren lands of gold
it cries in pain, agony, regret...
It has been neglected,
yet it saved us
apparently we don't care about saving it.
YOU ARE READING
Mellifluous Murmurs
Poetry❁ Freedom is allowing the crisp air to guide you through this forest we can call society. ❁
