My Walk Through The Park

I am walking down the street,
there is blood at my feet.
Windows are shattered,
It doesn't really matter.

People are screaming,
trucks are teeming,
with provisions for what is at hand.
There's an explosion in the distance,
but there is no resistance.

The grass is on fire,
but this is not dire,
as I pass over this grass.
I reach a cliff,
and I get a whiff
of something like burning rubber.

I look down,
I don't frown,
rather, I smile.
There is a layer of lava,
And as I sip my java,
I spring off the burnt brownish grass.

I fall through the air,
feeling no despair,
I slice through the wet red clouds.
I reach the lava,
and I drop my java,
as I plunge into the deep dark abyss.