Day 164 - Momentary Paradise

There is a paradox in this paradise

That filters like the sun through the blades

Something so malicious and precise

That life before your eyes fades

The light still rims seeming perfection

Someone lies dreaming of correction

That would fix the tragic reality

That man has woven into this place

Disregarding his own mortality

With a grim look upon his face

He pollutes this once hopeful haven

Blackening life like the wings of a raven

But for this moment life is still

Forgetting the factories of smoke

Ignoring the angry and vicious will

That with oil and methane our earth soak

Taking away the colorful sights

All for the glowing city lights