Devastation: Destroying the Last Bit of Hope
There's something so poetic about watching everything crumble around you
How can destruction be so artistic, so beautiful?
Seeing everything you attempted to build just fall
It's gone in the matter of minutes
The path you set out on is no longer there
It was wiped away as if it never existed
Can life be this way?
So artistic, so beautiful?
Because it seems as if mine is following that same path.
This poem is about:
Me