Mortals are the henchmen of anarchy,
Fanatics for dominance,
Avaricious, heedless and ruinous.
Prodigious fiends that leave quietus in their wake,
Showing no cognisance,
Ignorant, cruel and disastrous.
We conquer and destroy,
We resurrect and create.
And persist to imitate,
What we perceive as perfection.
Leaving the heterogeneity to retrospection.
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:)
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Tainted Times Trials & Teachings
PoetryLife is uncertain, yet certain. Changing, yet unchanging. Invigorating, yet devastating. Agonisingly slow, yet moves beyond sight within a blink. We must go through the memorising times. Both good and bad. To find its meaning, even if it means our e...
