~Blood Orange~
People say it's calm in the eye of the storm,
Ironic...
I write so be warned,
I'll ignite and dethrone with a strike of these poems,
Breathe life with the ink I scribe into form,
Sure, now it's calm, but before the sun boiled each pond,
Just imagine being def when they sound the alarm...
Clueless til warnings were just an afterthought,
Oblivious to pain that noosed a world a knot,
Slipped her jungle rot while burning her trees...
Those Fiery limbs and boiling skin... Bursting with ease,
Yet, not a sound heard from broken ears,
No shrieking lungs gasping, only dried tears,
Rivers dissipate as bridges sit ablaze,
Crackling away the only paths to escape,
The math don't equate, you're a born mute,
Screaming “help!” in sign won't compute,
Your shrills most confused, that inaudible twinge,
You see a burning bush but no sacrament,
Screams captured in, no relief for deformed,
Human corpse scorned, charred to which it's born,
Made of ash and returned to original state,
The ozone chipped away... Scalding at a critical rate,
A burst of light absorbs a face, such scorching hue,
A reddish gold entwined leaving humankind to bid adieu,
Vibrant and gleaming, the sight a virile view,
But the colorblind only see the shade of doom,
Just imagine this event. The tragedy’s beautifully divine,
Earth dies on the vine but the rose bloomed in sunshine,
I for one, thankful, what comes next, the fatal sunset,
Burst of rays set ablaze without tasteful regret,
Yet, all I saw was the apocalypse...
Puckering her final sun kiss.