Tuesday, June 21, 2011


I am very small
A flake of ash
Screaming in pain
One of the millions
Covered in flame
Covered in dust
I am blown by winds
Generated by fires
Of this world
We are the last generation
We are to blame
So black with smoke
The air is thick
The devastation cast
Despite my hopes
That fade
Desire is lust
The flesh denies the decay
Disease arrives to lay the killing blow
To my despair
The curse is renewed
Life goes on
But my life is over
Why do we run
When we cannot hide
Why do we crawl
When we can fly
Why do we crawl
Over mounds of broken glass
When we know it cuts
Why do we dream
When it ends in nightmare
Why do we love
When it ends in rust
Why do we hope
Where there can’t be trust
Why do we dream
Why do we dream
I am a speck of dust
In the winds
Of the eternal scheme