Poem #11

Flower petals fade,
Bright colors turning dingy and grey,
While clouds tumble down hills and cliffs to bury the lowlands.
Every living creature that is able, flees.
This destruction,
Molten fire running as rivers across continents,
Is unstoppable.
Only the unrelenting seascape can resist its persistent assaults.
If only life could assume that cold unmaleability.

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