The sky shines with diamonds
The ground, an alabaster grave.
The wasteland of broken dreams
Broken hearts.
Broken minds.
The shattered remains of
Hopes,
Loves,
Goals,
And ambitions lay scattered to the wind, the paintbrush of destruction.
To make a sunset, does one need more than the innocence of a child?
To create an majestic ocean,
Forbidding, unknown, and terrible,
Does one need any more than the longing and despair of a widow?
How can this be?
How can the world lay, so ravaged and corrupted and malicious
Underneath this beauty?
The clarity and stunningness of the azure
Afternoon sky remains,
No matter the death,
The sorrow,
The pain,
The hate.
It is as reliable as it is cruel.
A distinct reminder of what could be, and what is lost.