creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Poems, Poetry, Writings

Last of Us.

Corroded decisions,
accumulated as a incompetence in disguise.
Cooked over immature fires
of unfortunate desires.

We are a byproduct of this world,
not promised to anyone.
A flower; crushed.
A voice dawned.
Too early.

We are the last of us.
Unheard, unseen,
the perplexities of our nails
are full of dirt, of truth and fire,
they still haunt the afternoons
in vivid brights.

We chose to surrender
in an aftermath, we cannot smell.
forget the visions now.

Welcome to darkness,
take your shoes off, please.


4 thoughts on “Last of Us.

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