1527 when it all ended.
Winds and fire collapsing,
mountains and beaches mixing,
while God embraces them.
1527 when our dreams fell apart.
The nights were longer,
the days were shorter.
All we met was down in the deep water,
shouting while drowning,
living while dying.
Once more 1527,
it was the time,
when we fell to the ground,
our hands touching this earth,
full of lives and deaths,
while praying for mercy.
It was 1527.
YOU ARE READING
The Chaos
PoetryI'm sharing my thoughts with you. Hopufully we can relate at some point.
