Blood Type: Mass Chaos

Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

Photo by NEOSiAM 2020 on Pexels.com

Insane in the name of patriotic progress, we shuffle to each location.

Crippling from the inside-out, and being watched by every nation.

A country full of rage and separation, and counting down to implosion,

Almost too lost to be saved, and our souls infected with erosion.

War-torn, and a spinning money-hungry fireball,

The Earth starts spinning in the opposite direction.

The clock is ticking away for the short time left to make amends,

Now starts the days of an insurrection.

The green grass turns brown, and the blue sky turns gray,

And this world offers no more unity.

A nation of talent and opportunities galore,

Every inch of it wasted and empty of a harmonious and capable community.

The volcanos will erupt, and the ground will shake profusely,

There will be no place left to run away,

The violent attacks will be delivered diffusely,

Like an upside down doomsday.

There will be no one to hear your cries,

Those you love will turn without hesitation,

Even the animals will weep as they watch the land die,

And as each human, one by one, give into damnation.