Small towns with stone walls,
Existed once upon a time,
Then came the calls,
And started the age of grime.

The delicious green beauty,
Got lost in the maze of pillars,
Spewing black smoke, making all sooty,
All colours lost in the dark blizzards.

The unpretentious time gone,
The industrial era had begun.
Romanticists were broken; done,
People lost hope; over nature we won.

Sluggishly, the world chugged along,
Death and decay were rampant; everywhere,
The society had an unhealthy twang,
Then things started to get somewhere.

The digital age started,
All things got vastly smaller,
Sleek, shiny and uncharted,
This age called on many-a-scholar.

Now, the sky is no longer the limit,
And we are no longer chained to the ground,
We are free sparrows, with spirit,
Trudging forward; Hope for all found.

Maybe we took a turn for the better,
I dare to hope, yet, I stop.
For the threat has gotten greater.
Hostility, politics and money are on the top.

Hope and despair revolve around us,
Never has a time existed yet,
When we are so fragile; without trust,
Metamorphosis, they have called it.

All of this makes my head spin,
It threatens to spiral me to despair.
Therefore, my thoughts now I trim,
And my fractured reality I start to repair.

Nov 12, 2018

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