I see, as
from, an Eagles eye,
Looking down,
over a barren land.
The ground,
caked, cracked clay.
A fine red
dust, crumbling.
I see, the
lonely, silhouette,
Of a burnt
stump,
That once
was a tree.
Like a
clasping claw, grasping.
I see, A
smouldering, boulder,
Heat rising,
like a mirage,
Of toxic
gas, bubbling.
I see, the
crumbling ruins, falling in heaps,
Hazy dust,
settling, into piles,
Where once,
life, thrived.
Now desolate
and alone,
No-one
there.
I feel a
tear, forming, in my the corner of my eye.
An acid,
drop, stinging.
It falls, softly, but fades, before hitting
the parched, soil.
My nostrils,
and throat, constrict,
Burning, the
acrid smell,
Fumes, stifling, my breathe.
This once,
beautiful gem, now a dieing stone. ~ SeaOpal 2012
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