From my work-in-progress: "Somethings, Nothings and Inner Stirrings"
|I walked briskly into the musty dusk, |
unsure of my destination.
The stalks of twisted, earthen legs
caressed my presence as I glanced
through the slivers of space,
separating life and darkness.
The air clung heavily and vacant,
cementing my shirt to my chest.
No birdsongs to celebrate the requiem of day.
No resounding echoes
of my very footsteps resounding
through the thick wool of lifeless life.
Frantically I spin in circles,
dizzied by the endless course
of scarred towers, indistinguishable
from each other. There no path,
no guide, divine nor tangible.
I cry out to the somber wall
in frantic fits of feverous panic.
My failing conscious swings by the neck,
from the outstretched limbs of forever and not.
My only friend is fire as I burn the forest down,
I scream with wicked glee as I watch the foliage drown.
Through bursts of flame and ashen cloud I prance into the glow
and realize I’m encircled, with nowhere else to go.