Apocalypse

The scorching sun beats down

on the decomposing bodies before my eyes.

Fog and smoke saturate the atmosphere

Beside me, a once-wealthy man painfully dies.

I keep asking myself: “How am I still here?”

 

Perhaps my wisdom emancipated me

from the inevitable devastation caused by greed.

I built a shelter in the last remaining tree

and filtered acid rain to drown my thirst.

The fruits it bore were tasteless, odourless

but they are responsible for my survival.

 

Alas, my dream of awakening humanity

has failed those who still worship money.

But I am still breathing, and so are those I adore

Now, at the end of time, I could not ask for more.

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Rain

You inhibit the raindrops

From pouring out of your eyes

As clouds in your mind thunder

And you feel your heart surrender.

You know if he senses emotion

He will escape in revulsion

Because he evades all types of attachment

In fear of the inevitable disappointment.

He does not understand the sensation

Of dancing in the raindrops formulating around him.

It reminds him that he too is merely human

That he too can endure such desperation.

But mostly, it reminds him that you are real

That human connection is a learning process

And you cannot estimate its failure or success.

Inconsideration creates exasperation

The clouds explode in the collision

Tears flow savagely onto the stone

That once used to be your heart.

The storm departs;

You are alone.

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