we are fugitives of a wasteland.
Carved deep into the retches of a ruins.
a fragments of people feeding on woes and misery.
We are nocturnal beings smashed into the core of the earth 🌍
Were fallen like angels with no homes to go.
Our sun has refuse to set.
Living like thieves, with iced emotions.
Scavenging the world for a piece of warmth.
Yet, and still, everything we reach the peak of the mountain.
There's no light to guide us in our quest of perdition.
Our sun has refuse to set.
After a night where there seem to be no Tommorow.
Existing without a trace of existence.
Like the prodigal Cain.
Were nomadic bastards curse to till the earth.
And reap plenteous sorrows.
Our sun has refuse to set.
In the east, were kings who never had a dine to feast.
We wanted to be sons of God.
But unbelief and grief has made us sons of beast.
Our sun has refuse to set.
How can we bloom like a rose?
When there are no sparkles to spring up our petals.
How do we radiate the light living in us?
When we are made of utter darkness?
Our sun has refuse to set.
We are in a conscious coma.
Celebrating the death of our existence.
Lying dead in the state our sub-consciousness.
How can we see our photosynthetic nature.
When were covered with coldness empathy of our nocturnal state?
NOTE
"Our sun had refuse to set" is an amazing poem that bemoans the state of a human who seems to have lost the touches of life, in this essence, a lot of situations are put in place to describe the dire situation of his agonies about life.
However, man has become an instrument of penury so much that he attributed his painful state to the sun never rising.
Image credit
Written edited & compiled
By @Josediccus
20/2
2018
This got me
Yes a tiny dot into figures of speeches