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What joys would pleasant lines bring? What fears have they allayed? Goose bumps still run while on my skin I still dream of a land better than this
Fears were too allayed Put down, buried yet not laid Few there be that sensed the flame Great there be that knew that name
A statue of chlorine mixed with sodium Hoist in remembrance as a head filled with opium In far away sodom;hear gomorrah wailing Theirs is but the tip of the iceberg
This pen runs on for the desolation to come My ink flows for the melee 'twil bring No more will this vocal pen bear barren words I drew pity for a soul
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This poem is an entry to 100days poetry challenge. Join us on discord via https://discord.gg/hyfYQ9P