April 09. 2020.
First will come a plague, then a blood-red sky
The lone room will be bathed in silent blue.
A gust of wind blows, with a whistling cry
The snow shall arrive, its flight is one true.
A bright, inviting summer of no sun
The trees are alight with charming fires.
Impatient war rages on, peace long gone
From above, hail, in a somber choir.
In a cloudless sky comes rain and stony
Embers from a blazing, desolate sun.
A rainbow shines, oh! they demand, "Show me!"
In the storm, what's finished can't be undone.
Can we not embrace the life, souls uncurled?
Or must we wait 'til the end of the world?
(A.N. This is loosely based on current events, I think it's a bit obvious. The storms mentioned have occurred in my area in the past week, and it frightens me. Do not misunderstand, I do not wish for the public to believe these are the endtimes. Alas, such phenomena put me in a poetic mood.)
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Collections of Embellished Fictions, Philosophies, and Poetry
RandomCollections of Embellished Fictions, Philosophies, and Poetry - An anthology of various items and small writings, based on the workings of the mind, the actions of Human, and a depth into understanding and philosophy. ...
