The scenery has lost its tranquility
Nothing is left but rubbish
As if myself is loathed by the heavens
And my own angels have been brutally vanquished
A poor soul crying for shelter
For mine turned into detritus
Pirate seeking treasure from the flotsam
After an event that which is fortuitous
Still I thank heavens I survive
For my sins I plead to atone
Sad yet grateful I sit and drink
Gazing at what used to be my home

Let thoughts flow freely with emotions


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Words that paint pictures that paint words.


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Let thoughts flow freely with emotions

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