Roiling clouds of black disgust,
Lurge their way across the desolate ground
Devoid of life
Silent cries that go unheard,
Nothing that anyone wants to hear
Who will quiet their pain?
The tormented wind,
As it winds through skeletal trees
They creak maliciously
The muddy water,
Noxious and clinging, filled with the excrements of the now dead
Wanderers wade through it
The sky of sickly purple,
Painful to the eyes to point of the blind
All avert their gaze
The land of the cursed,
No-one deserves this
Who are we to condemn them?
I wrote this whilst in a major bout of anger and stress, Id appreciate what meaning people find in it.