Apocalypse

apocalypse-3337605_1280.jpg

 

She lies whimpering,

From the non-stop plundering.

Her arms slashed into tiny bits

By those she was moments ago housing.

Her streets defaced with droppings

From oppressed weak inhabitants.

Her heart reaches the point of breaking,

But her tormentors were not done desecrating.

Her soul screams for an abatement,

But they were not good at listening.

She started imploding.

From her depth, she burnt,

Consuming her tormentors and all within.

 

©Aweni

Image credit: mysticsartdesign

via Daily prompts: Pillage

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