Dystopia - 1

A hundred years have passed you say?
How is that possible, I had just closed my eyes ...
A different world you try to portray,
But I see the same greys and the same skies.

Hold on, wait, I see what you mean,
The water is murkier, the grass less green,
The horizon has blurred, and words sound slurred,
The roads have given way to peat and mud.

The eagles no longer fly high, their spirit is crushed,
Inspiration is now a word in dictionaries only,
The flowers are weeping, the hair no longer brushed,
Alone are the gods, brooding and lonely.