a landslide soon to bring us
down after the burning
ring ensues.
the tears of heaven will
rain down like acid upon
the crust of the earth where
there is no one left to
remember our names,
or to make wine from lilac trees.
i have been preparing for
the nights that will not turn into
days and i have been preparing
for the days that will not turn
into nights.
i wait for the glow of the sun to run out,
i wait for the moon to grow out of its phases.
i wait for the last star to explode.
the seas will run dry,
the mountains shall crumble,
the wind will stop blowing,
and things shall stop growing.
we have outgrown our shell
and sadly those that scatter
the shores cannot offer up
themselves as replacements.
YOU ARE READING
Among The Wildflowers
Poetrythe weeds of thoughts that have taken over my mind and put into words to the best of my ability. this is a call to nature and all that is. beauty in art, art in beauty. check out 'The Rose and Her Thorns.' ••• poetry collection explicit language a...
