Red, the raven flies

in the northern skies.

Black clouds growl on the horizon,

while the faded orange sun rises in the east,

the shimmering sea is but a sodden patch.


On a bone hill, rests a broken tree.

His barren branches are still

and his soul empty


The deserted city bemoans its fate,

wishing for the days of diamond towers and fleeting laughter.

Crying for its fallen structures and cracked pavement.


In a far away place,

a new Sun is born

and dances on a new Sea

in a new Home

with laughing Clouds.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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