The four horsemen of the Apocalypse

Landmines planted with great care will bloom to cherry blossom, spreading deadly petal’s wrath so caustic and so wanton. Emaciated features are climbing off the page. Sunken eyes are tearful fruit Grown in this day and age. Billows blowing in the wind are noxious gaseous clouds that choke unwitting victims that it stalks and then enshrouds. Indolent Indifference states “ I’ll make a change tomorrow”, All the while Time carries on to harvest human sorrow.