A world where nothing good can live

Picture a world empty and cold,
A land of which the sun never was told,
An Icy north wind blows in a desolate field,
No cover nor warmth to use as a shield,
Freezing in summer and glacial in Winter,
Can't touch the wood for fear of splinter.
Ripped up newspapers blow across the common,
Telling tales of woe, their stories solemn.

A world where thunder is a regular sight,
Can't stem the terror try as you might,
Confusion lurks around every bend,
Any love would be a god-send,
The darkness hangs like a veil of velvet,
A silent murder and the body discarded.
A broken heart shattered with ease,
Faded whispers flow through dead trees,

Derelict houses falling to ruin,
Moth-eaten curtains hide shadows within,
Dust on shelves lies heavy and thick,
Everything here is the produce of a trick.
The cage of the budgie long since dead,
Its skeleton lying where once was its bed,
Decaying messages of love on the table,
Fastened together with a rusted staple,

Hidden and unseen amongst the mess,
Are the Angels of darkness, distrust and distress,
Laughing and chuckling maliciously,
At the life they ruined with obvious glee,
Finding happiness in the pain they have caused,
Enjoying all the hurt they endorsed,
Ripping apart everything in their path,
Leaving others to clear the aftermath.

Many tried to preserve and protect,
The girl they once looked at in respect,
Didn't realise inside she was numb,
Frozen with pain, making her dumb,
Overcome in a plague of disgust,
Sent by the angels to eat out her trust,
Any help people wanted to give,
Has failed to penetrate a world where nothing good can live.