Destruction (Jan 1964)written during the cold war by me, a 17 year old who didn't know Jesus.
The moon glides over the forgotten plain,
Whose earth is cracked from lack of rain.
The moon is haunted with growing despair
While looking for life that’s nevermore there.
The moon glides over the forgotten plain
Where dead civilization now is lain,
Gazing at destruction from his perch on high,
Moon waits for dawn which long ago did die.
The moon glides over the forbidden plain,
Whose earth shall nevermore see rain;
The moon gazes long from his stance on high
At useless earth scattered in sky….
(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with with proper credits.
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