Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sarah Mann Aug 2018
There's a storm coming.
Within hours, its arrival will go unannounced
But the few who are destined for the change
Can feel it brewing just under the surface
Between the quiet conversations
A constant hum, a reminder of the forgotten
Continues to pulse through the veins
Silence, floating above the metropolis
Ready to blanket the movement in a suffocating still
The forces of the unknown act swiftly, careful in its oblivion
Truth be told, there is some quality to having something to hold on to.
Something to tether you back to reality,
It gives you assurance that this life is more than just a simulation
Hope of the possibility to slowly pass through the barren wastelands of this
Technological underdevelopment.
The world has seemingly lost its value
Let the storm wipe out what is left of this society.
The few who were meant to be will remain.
I'm ready for the shift for nothing to be the same.
August 08, 2018. 12:08AM
Zoromir Dec 2013
POEM UNDERDEVELOPMENT
THOUGHTS AT 1.16 AM
The ones in which are hard to love
Need it most

The ones who love
Are hated

And those who hate
Are adored

And those who love
Are ignored

— The End —