It is over,
It is over,
Tell me, Apollo,
Where are your laurels?
It is over,
It is over,
Tell me, Artemis,
Where are your hounds?
The world is clumsily nearing it's end,
And the gods have lost
The powers to fix it.
Olympus will come crashing down
And the fountains sputter and stop.
Tell the king,
Tell the king,
It is over.
YOU ARE READING
Art Will Survive, Artists Won't
PoesíaThis book is a compilation of free-form poetry that I've written. Most of it is pretty personal, but I hope you'll like it regardless. POSSIBLE TRIGGERS: depression, self-harm, lgbtq+, suicidal thoughts
