Broken

Where’s the green grass that covered the Earth?

Where’s the gentle wind that whispered sweet lullaby?

Where’s the sweet laughter that filled the fresh air?

Those sweet things are now a mere fantasy

In their places lies a broken wonderland

Bitter cold snow covers the once green Earth

The once gentle wind howls in anguish and despair

Mournful cries now fill the bone-chilling air

As mangled bodies scattered around the frozen land

Crimson blood dyeing the frigid white snow red

Oh, when will this terrible war end?

Author's Note

This is an old poem. Please comment

Reviews

[Emilie Sturm]

I really enjoyed your poem, it reflects on the destruction of our world. Perhaps it would be better if you didn't use the contraction for "Where's" and instead use "Where is". In this way, it sounds more formal, appealing to the ears, and poetic. keep up the good art!

[Winter]

Alright! Thank you for your suggestion :)

[Emilie Sturm]

no problem, anytime!

[Paul Bell]

Since human existence, there's been wars. Now we have the capacity to wipe ourselves out, and probably will. On a brighter note. Nature usually recovers as she always does.

[Winter]

Nature will reclaim back what is hers.