All I see before me is a fetid landscape of doomed souls
From the effervescent innocence of a glistening newborn
To the impetuous adolescent, entangled in their irrelevant problems
Lingering is the rancid smell that incessantly itches my nose,
making my face shrivel with disgust, loathing the stench of seven billion multiplying bodies awaiting their time to rot.
This fatal malediction is inevitable, yet we passionately resist with futile actions
Playing god with our machines, frantically hoping they will keep us alive, begging for the extension of our due date
When truly, they just enervate our capacity to enjoy the time bestowed upon us
Only a blink
Life is the longest thing we will ever experience
Unless a revelation occurs, unless we let go absolutely,
Unless we surrender
We will simply remain the malcontent children of calamity,
Fueling the fire to our own demise.
Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 1:20 PM UTC
All I see before me is a fetid landscape of doomed souls
From the effervescent innocence of a glistening newborn
To the impetuous adolescent, entangled in their irrelevant problems
Lingering is the rancid smell that incessantly itches my nose,
making my face shrivel with disgust, loathing the stench of seven billion multiplying bodies awaiting their time to rot.
This fatal malediction is inevitable, yet we passionately resist with futile actions
Playing god with our machines, frantically hoping they will keep us alive, begging for the extension of our due date
When truly, they just enervate our capacity to enjoy the time bestowed upon us
Only a blink
Life is the longest thing we will ever experience
Unless a revelation occurs, unless we let go absolutely,
Unless we surrender
We will simply remain the malcontent children of calamity,
Fueling the fire to our own demise.
Written in my disturbed middle teenage years
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