The jungle looked at me with eyes so green it reflected the urges lost within me.
Red smirks on the faces of bark trees, yellow from the cynical pursuit of paper.
Veins like roots, my heart sucked in the dying nature around me.
Red mixed in green making it hard to differentiate the blood from a budding rose.
Life and death never felt so close.
From all angels I saw them.
The passions within me like stepping stones on lily pads
Doing capitalism on double the effort to make the whole world sink.
Beautiful like flamingos but with no leg to stand on.
Where did they come from?
Yes, they come from me, the jungle, but where did they really come from
So shallow they would not sink.
@Sorom_tbte
Image by: Chidi3s (Joel Sydenham) https://www.instagram.com/joelsydenham/
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