Radioactive Winters

You are far from dormant, a finely tuned disorganised display of disarray, tossing light and love away into the pits of endless winters, ripping trees from the earth, firing splinters as thick as ignorance, alerting innocent children to your long and tiresome stay. 
 

Little houses stand cowering under your clouds of acid rain, lowering infections onto dinner plates, tarnishing them with a vibrant yellow display that staines the teeth as they inhale. 

Forever to remain is the actions of man, planting radiation flowers that bloom into plumes of deadly death, and regret stands idel in hospital hallways exhaling iodine breath, hoping to salvage what is left of life. 

So to the melting malignant core I must venture, to taste the everlasting radioactive embers and beg whomever I witness as our creator to eliminate man from his bizzare plan.