Impossible

picture poem, Poetry

It’s impossible to know,
what could have been.
Such destruction,
brought again.
Power,
in such a random event.
When everything built by human hands,
is rendered meaningless.

It’s impossible to know, what could have been. Such destruction, brought again. Power, in such a random event. When everything built by human hands, is rendered meaningless. 



		
	
			

			
				


	

			


	

			

				

					

		
		

			

				Published by Wandering Poem			

		


		

			I write Poetry and fiction as a hobby, I've written a full book but never managed to get it published. 
I am also working on a Table Top RPG called Cryptix. And have really fallen in love with this project. As such a lot of my fiction right now is connected to the lore of this strange world of monsters. 
My poems tend to be thoughtful and philosophical with a touch of spirituality. 
My fiction is mostly sci-fi and fantasy but usually with twists and interesting ideas thrown in there. I have been told I don't have a solid grasp of genre, which is fair since the whole concept doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me anyways, I write what I want, and nothing else.			
		

	

			

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