After the explosions have died
And you're hiding down under the grate
Ashes tapping your shoulders
Telling you to dust off your shoes
If you look across the stark and dry plane
You might see a solitary pillar
Growing from the the dust and wind and sand
It's finger pointing to you
Trying to catch you
Turn your skin to stone
For you are the last
While you still have your pentultimate breath
You can see something
Before the pillar
Steals your last
© Copyright 2009 Kenzington (UN: theflyingsay at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Kenzington has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
|Log In To Leave Feedback|