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Devastation
February 20, 2015
Bleak and endless,
This world of darkness,
Too gone to be reborn.
Not a speck of life to be seen,
Not a drop of hope left in the sea,
Not a grain of bliss in this desert.
You can’t escape it,
This future beyond the future,
Where our past becomes our present.
So give good tidings to the time of now,
Regret what you have done yesterday,
And feel guilt for tomorrow.
This wasteland is ourselves,
It is our future,
And most of all,
It is nothing.
© Zachary R., Philadelphia, PA
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