Beneath a Tree with Poisoned Leaves

A short poem of sitting and watching the world burn

Colors once o’er ruled these flowing fields
Now blue and black and white and worn
I sat beneath a tree with poisoned leaves
And I perceived a world’s a-maddened mourns

Stains of red of men now dead did dot the snow
The old already dirt beneath the freezing storms
For slaughter it’d been since serpent rose from water
And the father had abandoned them in all his forms

So wolves of titan size assaulted sun and moon
In worlds gone dark, all evil goes unseen
Some tried to fight the icy tides, their souls submerged
Three winters, with no summer in between

Now mountains crumbled ‘fore my very eyes
And earthquakes shook existence to a halt
So numbered were the people’s funeral pyres
That drops of fire rained like it was all my fault

There were armies of irated men amassed
And fathers sharpened swords against their sons
And far above, their ancestors gave bitter glares
Ashamed of their descendants, disregarding what they’d won