What am I to make
of a world so easy to break?
The silence of fading lines;
the boundaries that couldn't hold.
Once a beautiful picture
has withered away to a dull blur.
Rain.
Harsh pounding of the sky's cries.
Cold.
Forgotten presence of souls.
Wind.
Disappointed sighs of Mother Nature.
Heat.
Anger building behind the eyes.
Earthquake.
Strikes and smashes for the beaten and bashed.
A place meant to strive
cannot even survive.