The streets burn,
With red rage,
The days burn
With blue flame.
A nightmarish landscape,
That we can,
Never awake from,
Trapped forever in,
This burning reality.
The wrold catches,
Flame.
No water can,
Quench,
This burning world.
Burning World
Published by Wandering Poem
I write Poetry and fiction as a hobby, I've written a full book but never managed to get it published. My poems tend to be thoughtful and philosophical with a touch of spirituality. My fiction is mostly sci-fi and fantasy but usually with twists and interesting ideas thrown in there. I have been told I don't have a solid grasp of genre, which is fair since the whole concept doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me anyways, I write what I want, and nothing else. View all posts by Wandering Poem
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