In a million years we will be remembered,
Unseen, unknown, but heard.
Our shout through time shall echo,
In the deserts of the oceans past.
Our fate, Ozymandias's envy,
To be remembered, if for destruction,
Destruction it be.
For when the oceans are deserts,
They will hear all our screams.
Ozymandias's envy.
YOU ARE READING
Often confusing
PoetrySecond part to a muses musings because wattpad has a story limit. . . I mean an enthralling book of stories
