
An island in an ocean of flame
It once offered protection; no more
Those who took shelter are gone
Like those who tried to reach the shore
Bodies like flotsam, surrounding their goal
Floating beneath a sky of fire
Lying on a bed of searing, scorching flame
A sea that keeps rising higher
No refuge from the red and orange waves
Heat consumes ourselves and our nation
The island sprouts cracks and begins to break
In the face of a more powerful creation
Above the sea despite the rising tide
It survived the heat and blast
But it was not enough to save us
And neither us nor it will last
2 comments:
The imagery is amazing. the poem has such a sense and tone of finality, yet this tone of finality seems to have undertones of apathy to it all. Very nicely written
jake, you took a risk in imagining this particular scene as a kind of island immersed in waves of fire. descriptions like "bodies like flotsam" confirm becca's earlier comment about your imagery, and you effectively craft a sense of desperation.
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