The Raging Fire
The raging fire.
A poem by him.
I am the raging fire.
Smiting the innocent and purging the oxygen.
Churning out the black of waste that we have all become.
Progress is not what comes anymore.
If we needed progress, it would not kill us.
If progress was positive I wouldn’t be here.
I wouldn’t be burning.
I wouldn’t be drowning in their so-called justice.
True progress and justice wouldn’t let me burn here.
Neither would it let her suffocate in the dirt and swallow the darkness of the tunnels.
Copyright ©
Marc Os | Year Posted 2023
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