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Crys Arre

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

13 poems·Since June 2018

I live my life guided by the colors of the wind. I walk the path that never existed until I was born. Does that make any sense? No! Fuck it! I love you!

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Devastation

June 29, 2018

When I think of the world I'm afraid to look at what it has become.

People struggle through the darkness that has risen all through out the pastures of their very land.

Mayhem has devoured the beauty that once gave great plains a bountiful harvest.

War has slaughtered the great creation that God himself birthed.

Our cities now corrupted by destructive leaders that know nothing but greed.

Children now fear the places that were meant to keep them safe.

Freedom a web of lies for those who were promised it.

The government no longer bothering to serve and protect those they vowed to shield.

The wealthy shame the poverous for being poor.

Fear has become part of the everyday life.

Our humanity has become worn and faded.

Murder is now the new plague.

Our Apocolypse has already begun.

We are judged by all who know our names, but now

Who will bring us Salvation?

 

 

 

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