Cobwebs in the heart,
fog in the soul,
clouded eyes.
Sunless days,
land far from God,
everything marches toward death.
Eyes with cobwebs, without light,
everything leads to destruction,
while we hear the music, deaf.
Signs,
everything explodes,
moths, ants,
noise of the poor,
poverty in the tunnel.
Everything marches to disaster,
a world distant from the Word,
crazy world, godless world,
deaf and blind to the signs.
Times of explosions,
times of epidemic,
we listen to music,
far from reality.
Death calls,
door to door,
misfortunes,
in the fog.
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30 - X - 2025
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Author:
Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS (
Online) - Published: October 30th, 2025 06:02
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
Online)
Comments1
A poem with a dark tone that seems to foretell coming doom. There is little hope in this piece with grey skies and portents of violence. Well written
The terrifying times have come.
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You are most welcome
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