Barren and cold,
arid and old,
insidious winds,
screaming stories untold;

Buried in the sands,
of these ashen lands,
decaying carcasses,
of castles unmanned;

Where shells lay tossed,
of ones that are lost,
rising tides,
drown all they have crossed;

And oceans deep,
slowly creep,
where castles once stood,
and children now weep;

A wasteland of lies,
just under the skies,
just a beach;

Within our eyes.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar

“Our perception stems from our existence;
Since existence is limited,
so is our perception.”

2 thoughts on “Wasteland

Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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