To the settling life, the sigh of the world
You see things, happenings that you wouldn't normally be aware of;
As the wind caresses the treetops of pine
Overgrown, the roots have conquered the cities of swines
A river now runs through where cars in the past drove by
Birds flock the ruins of a metropolis, a thriving city before the decline
Spring wars, Autumn fevers, Winter deaths, and Summer berries
Scattered about are the people who are left in this terrible incline
Many are hungry, many are dying, but the world must have needed an intervention so divine
Some survive and live to see another sky, to witnessing the rust take over
Gunshots from miles away are the only things you can hear aside from the wind;
You cannot settle in this world that took control of the people that inhabit it
//k.u.
***
Note: challenge was "Summer berries" from IamColleteRae ! Hope it lived up to your expectations!
YOU ARE READING
The Quarantine Book
Poetry"--the stillness of isolation, the blazing aloneness, the rich moments with loved ones, and the sole solitude of the person. The rumination of a bored writer, a reflection of the months, a reaction to the silence and loudness of life. It's a methodi...
