Everything was buried into the rubble,
Viciously caving, see the blood so subtle
An aftermath of the world's death
Nothing but entrails and bodies are left
Gone are the people of today
Even if they suffer their wounds make them stay
Lively is the blood that pours out of them
Into the ground, it goes to my head
Now there is death and destruction,
A world so gruesome I call it perfection
YOU ARE READING
A Collection Of Rhymes
PoetryPoetry I write from time to time. Correct any grammar in the comments please. I can't proof read as much as I'd like and I hate it when I make grammatical errors. Also if you'd like to share your opinion on what you think the poem's theme is or how...
