Remnants Of A Fallen Kingdom

In a sacred text he wrote of his life,
Of love and hate divine,
Which through his eyes bled.
He is the last of his kind.
A heartless man trying to find a reason
In this life.

He gathered his things when he saw the world returning
To be left behind in his goal.
In privacy he thinks to himself: "Why have I grown so cold?"
Longing for what he'll never have
His conscience grows weak.
His voice grows quiet until he can't speak.

Tired and wandering eyes
Scope across desolate land
How did it come to this?
All that's left are remnants of his fallen kingdom.

Jeffopium! A overdose of pessimism and bitterness:"how did it come to this?"
For sure, our world is in a mess, but let's rock some injections of goodwill into it, won't we?

Welcome on the poetry thread

Nice job I like this. :-) Tired and wandering eyes
Scope across desolate land
How did it come to this?
All that's left are remnants of his fallen kingdom.

This reminds me of my poetry series The Silent Echo it has that same sort of idea.

This is:Someone To Watch!!

I said it first!