The flowers wither on the field.
No one can tend it ,
For it has no guardian,
Because the world has fallen.
Ashes rain down,
Staining the petals.
Have we been so blind,
Thinking it was blessed water?
As insanity tears our minds,
Loosening our strings of control.
We can't tend the flowers,
They have already withered.
We lost our flowers,
And the same for our world,
Which we no longer control.
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Poems
Poetry"The universe kissed the stars, who birthed a galaxy of new beginnings." The only way to express beautiful and cynical thoughts is through the delightful invention of simple, and yet complex, poetry. My poems never end, have no defined theme and st...
