No Title
Apiece of heaven
In twenty seven
Falls from the sky
So many will die
Some are left to cry
The world will reel
But it will heal
It needs to be understood
Fire burns all that's wood
For food people will fight
The world looses its light
Forever night
The world changes
Rearranges
Gone is the places we knew
No plants grew
Most animal life
Lost amid the strife
Mankind's darkest hour
No one in power
Dark days ahead
How will the survivers be fed
Confusion runs free
This frightens me
All that I see
A world go's mad
Sad
Struggling to survive
Those still alive
Don't know if I want to be there
So unfair
End of time
End of my rhyme
Copyright © William P. Harris | Year Posted 2023
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