The Flood

A reminder of the distant past

O eyes of judgement,
amidst all that they rend,
can't help but to sink,
from the weight of their sins.
O hands of creation,
amidst all that they build,
are chained to the ballasts
of all that they killed.
O hearts of passion,
once beating so true,
now turned to stone
by a world gone askew.
O humanity,
in your tireless pursuit of zealotry,
all that remains is swallowed by a sea
of soul-crushing tragedy.