I would rework civilization out of the dust it had left behind
painting its walls with the sunshine that no longer existed
marking the cracked ground with paintings of what life had been like eons before
there would be plenty of work to do
yet my steadfast hands refused to stay still
YOU ARE READING
Crossing the dark moon
PoetryIt is up to every man to choose what path they follow. Whether it be in fairness or out of spite, the choice is up to the individual at the end of the road
