Desolation
I live upon a once pure land
whence from beyond the atmosphere
where no life exists, it transforms,
drawing a picture of landscapes
etched in minuscule detail
breathtakingly beautiful.
Upon the land, nothing so grand,
tread upon and bled
devastation and waste abound,
an atmosphere struggling, loosing,
greed inflicts huge wounds
scarring the landscape,
war contributes,
pollution lays to waste,
rendering useless.
I live on a land no longer pure,
from under the atmosphere
where life exists,
it is transformed,
drawing a picture of landscapes,
etched in vivid detail,
describing man's betrayal.
Our past demands retribution,
frailty more evident each passing day,
a land full of poverty and hate,
the past, heavily laden
in ecological disgrace,
unable to bear weight,
a land in motion,
its people stagnant.
I live on a land no longer pure,
unable to rebound,
constant ignorance
driven by basic or preconceived need,
the future forecast desolation,
I pray, I am mistaken.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
