a life like home.

Grasslands are now grey like ashes
with a bloody sun up in the sky.
The Kings and Queens of Earth,
at the bottom of the food chain.
I lay my eyes across downtown
The great city, now gone,
piles of dust under smoke and bones.
People in filthy, torn up attires,
Looking for food and water everywhere,
a mix of broken bricks and despair.
Where I stand, the belfry of the church,
the broken body of the bell saves me
from unwanted stares.
It looks like the stage I used to play,
but it is reality. Welcome to existence.