John Martin

John Martin
Great Day of his Wrath

Monday 20 December 2010

Parasites.

When the backbone is withered and dead, our oceanic heaven reduced to dry desolate plains.
We will scream at the broken city skyline...

“Why did we destroy that which sustained us and reject love?!”

... hearing only the echoes in answer, alone in our suffering.
Haunted by the myriad dreaming,
But not eternally for all is impermanence.

The place where the proud called their home is barren now, scorched not by their own passion but by our greed for their flame.

No gods could forgive such ignorant waste of potential, if they do exist then we are orphans left on the doorstep of the world.

A consequence allowed continuing out of spite.

Rise above this sea of banal filth to seek redemption, in the eyes of suffering no-one is exempt and all are equal.

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