Dear Cryptic Affluence,
Did I really have to go so far?
What did I do for you to drown this way?
It wasn't easy getting here,
tell me was it meant to be?
I want to make my dreams come true
through the ways you'd least expect it.
Tell me did it really have to end this way?
Will people take notice
of the shining beacon of hope
or of the dark ashes of the last gleans of the eruption.
No one wants to take pictures
of the death that surrounds us,
it's more of an obligation so to speak.
But for life,
it's the envious of the pick,
the one that photographers jostle over,
no matter the person.
So tell me.
What were your thoughts that day?
The moment they crashed
the moment you had to let go
of the waterfall of the expanse of those crowds
that shouted and wailed
and those who walked away from the despair hanging over us in the air.
oh wonderous Affluence.
Is life really that sweet to the fallen?