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Feb 2017
The air is heavy
None can breathe.
In this place
No smiles, just grief.

A barren wasteland.
Fallout from the Phantoms.
Menaces whose pleasures lie
In the pain and misery
Of those beneath them.

Their feet press
Down upon the chests.
Anxiety builds like
Pressure from a fire hose
Capable of tearing
Flesh from bone,
Crushing rib and spine
Leaving one in
Dread and despair,
Like lost souls
Over a scorched earth
From burning hell fire.

There is no joy.
No satisfaction.
No sense of community.
Only desolation and desert
With dead camels,
And vultures
Circling their rotting corpses;
Life ****** right out.

In here,
The fools leading fools
Leading the Intellect,
And no end in sight
From this eternal misery

JM 10/26/16
Jon Po Dom
Written by
Jon Po Dom  31/M/South Jersey πŸ‡ΊπŸ‡Έ
(31/M/South Jersey πŸ‡ΊπŸ‡Έ)   
808
 
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