Erasing the Parasites of the Universe

There is a sepulcher in the distance
With worn marble steps from cloudy, acid tears
That even the souls no longer linger on,
Foresaken by their plastic throw-away God.

Erroding epitaphs in a voiceless language
Inscribed with faded names and forgotten dates.
The few remaining dirt encrusted stone crosses
Bear cracks, crumbling, mocking humanity.

The carefully sculpted tombs give the only evidence
That this place was once inhabited
Under scorching asphalt summer skies,
Descried carbon monoxide.

Rusted sinful sky-scrapers
Have long past tumbled into the sulfur sea.
Their euphonic end whispered lullaby's
Across a vast, sleeping world.

Worried winds spread deserts like disease,
Not the first hell, but certainly the last of many
Mankind created.  Self-fulfilling prophecies
and apocalypse worshipping societies; vanished.

Author's Note

Please give me critical reviews! I want to improve. :)

Reviews

[Fernando Pessoa]

I'm pretty new here, so feel a little odd being critical (sorry!). I do think you have an amazing way to create a visual world for your reader, and this carried over with the emotional depth as well. Great write.

HEINRICH HEINE: "Wild, dark times are rumbling toward us, and the prophet who wishes to write a new apocalypse will have to invent entirely new beasts, and beasts so terrible that the ancient animal symbols of St. John will seem like cooing doves and cupids in comparison."