John Alexander Alegre - Wasteland

My soul is a wasteland littered with the ruins of my emotions,
the sun doesn't shine here anymore,
the moon no longer visits this place,
these things are but a memory.
Dark clounds make good on their promise of rain,
lighting strikes but I am immune naught for the pain,
to my disdain through this overwhelming pain all I want to know is why.

John Alexander Alegre

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wasteland-13/