Wilderness: that where animals exist. That where humanity finds no reason to be. And yet we're all somehow standing in wilderness. Or that which was once it. 

The fallen tree logs, the leaves that had to wilt way before they ripened into green beauties. The guardians of these, left stranded by humanity in a labyrinth of concrete structures, metallic towers and blinding dusty smoke and thereupon...

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Rumbles have started growing louder. 
Now there appear bright flashes across the sky; 
Filled with glee, thundering sadistically. 
I admit they appear absolutely splendid to me.
Blue, white, dull grey and yellow.
No one ever says that's a great colour combo.
But is there a sight prettier than the grey clouds
Trying to cover the tints of soft crimson,
That sparkle throughout the infinitude,
...

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