The air I breath
The air around me
It swirls in
Filters out
My lungs on fire
As the chemicals I shouldn't breath
Enter my fragile body
Limp I lay
Under the dark of night
Dawn on its way arising
Yet as I stare still in the darkness
It's endless
Smothering yet seems weightless
The black invades all spaces
Crevases
The cracks in the abandoned walls
Unnoticed
The world at its near end
Yet so quiet it lays
Within the dead of night
By morning light
Thieves and beggers roam
No where to go
No place to call this or anywhere home
It's destroyed to desolation
A horrible image
Left to rot, left to wast
Everyone slowly but surely dying
There is no way to escape fate
The end is upon us.
We will suffer
All the odds against us.
__________________________
I know this does not all rhyme. not all poetry does. Poetry is how the creator of it wants to say it.
I gained some inspiration from another book by Beesey
YOU ARE READING
A Poet of Deep Thought (1st Poetry Volume)
PoetryTheses poems are either personal to me, made during my English class or I just end up writing them. I would say most of these are random creation and warning some can be depressing. It can be worth the read if you enjoy poems as much as I.
