Our World

1 Comments

Tags:
  • Sadness

    Our World

    Our world, born in it
    Was made for us to accept
    Forced on us, intimidating
    Too late we will get
    To know that there sit
    No freedom in it, living

    What a world! recycle
    Everything in it is our daily
    Chore. Nothing is new, impossible
    But amending and tackling surely
    Continue life cycle
    Nevertheless, peace unreachable

    Killing, deceiving, bloodletting, our world
    Is; nowhere to escape but to the arms
    Of the enemies, gods and goddesses
    One more villainous than another, the swarms
    of killler insects, color red and bloodless
    but bloodlust, they own earth to endlessly whirl

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    Chaos128 commented on Our World

    06-22-2009

    Looks like you're channeling the apocalypse here, Alien. And there's no harm in it. The way you suddenly veer from dissatisfaction to downright doomsaying is a little jarring, but that's what the medium is all about. Electric!

    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    alien’s Poems (2)

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    Our World 1
    Worm Planet 1