Will There Be Anything Left? V.2

My feet feel heavy
As I walk the earth
These dry lands
Not from drought
Death stinks, as it looms.

My heart feels heavier
As it bears the weight
Of what my eyes can’t see
It burns my mind
The thought of it–
What was, what is,
And what little is left
For us here.

The end is near
It is here, I see it
And as I walk on
This bare earth
My cold, burning, feet,
Carrying a stone of a heart
Thumping in my chest
My blood races,
My mind kills me.

“What will be left
Of these lands
We once called
Our home?”


Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

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