Tuesday, July 12, 2016

the gear

the gear turns and turns
as the world around it burns
splashing darkness
on the canvas of sky
to kill every star
but some still survive
the ancient engine
built with bones
fueled by blood
churns out chaos
a fucking flood
pillars of smoke
kiss the skies
an acid fog
covers the ground
it's all around us
trees, like fractured bones
point guilty branches
towards anyone
who'd shoulder the blame
there is no name of this game
just a choking feeling of
the end of everything

Why is this poem getting more views than usual?
Will someone bother leaving a comment? Where are you coming from?

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