Madness grows in the world,
Like echoes in the wind.
Yet it is silent,
Like screams in the abyss of an ocean,
Where only your hunters can hear squeal.
Humanity is blind,
Their vision decayed by fear,
Unable to see the constant cycle of insanity.
And as we waste our time in false hope,
We forget that we too shall decay.
When our flesh has been devoured by soil,
And our bones are but dust,
And the memory of us has faded,
Only then shall we understand,
How little a Human's life is worth.
Though our soul shall observe the world,
We'll know that we have done nothing,
For it is no longer our world.
YOU ARE READING
The Optimist Suffers
PoetryHello. This is something I made when I was in class. it's a bit dark, which I guess is my style, but I hope you'll enjoy it. please give me your opinion so that I may improve my writing. I also might be working on a story or two and a few poems soon...
