#086

now the skies weep on the inside
there is no space to dream
no space to see, not even a
means to unwear this facelessness

everything is a sinusoid
running, ruining and
perfection is one black word
not even the fittest will survive

perhaps this is the road to It
yet some hope, discuss rebellion,
the rest are either slaves or
dead or similarly atrophied-

we have run out of time

©Mohana Das

Linked to D’verse: Meeting The Bar

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9 thoughts on “#086

  1. Prophetic words here I think Mohana.
    Sadly, I think we have run out of time as the greed of those who exploit this Earth (and us) has no boundaries.
    Anna :o]

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