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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Dark · #1899204
A poem about death and rebirth
End of Life and New Beginning
By Forest Dweller

A poem about death and rebirth

Edited by Livingston County Writers & Critics Support Group

By a broken street curb weary
Winds blow through the glass-strewn dirt
Wild dogs prowl through brown, dead weeds
All sound fades inert

No man sees the ruined world
Life has faded to a plague that drained all life
Into this blood-soaked dirt

Buildings stand
A skeletal wand that beckoned death
From thermal nuclear skies

Nothing stands
The winds blow through homes
A screen door lashes, so forlorn
No one left to see our revealed lies

A small child’s picture rests in blood-stained grass where wild dogs prowl
Scavenging, sick as to the blood-soaked dirt they sink

Once a city filled with pride
Tampered with the building blocks of physics
Untrammeled by theistic harbingers of monstrous cosmic shakings
The merchants plied their wares

The churches called the dutiful to praise the rock of ages
They sang of resurrection and eternal peace for forlorn, rootless soul

Politicians promised jobs
Health and hope for a future that seems certain
Then while children played on swings and workers paved the traveled streets
Darkness fell of darkness draped in blood

A vortex opened changing Earth into a sphere where life could not endure
Children vanished, stillness came
Naught could be seen except the blood-red deadened grass

No time for the siren’s wail
Man and wife could not embrace as emptiness imbued the world
With galactic stillness

Remains of humans walk the streets in undead groveling
Their brains fried, feeling pain
Knowing nothing as their limbs fell into red deadened grass

Red deadened grass loomed
An experiment in death come awry
Could man’s knowledge save him?

The city sits o silent sentinel
Beckoning living beings from other galaxies into the sphinx that man constructed

Somewhere in galactic space
A scientist ponders the ruined city and wonders
What is this red deadened grass that sucked all life into the vortex?

He looks into himself and stares into galactic space
Can life emerge from this black hole?
Or has the sphinx sealed everything in death?

Somewhere the scientist hears an infant cry and suckle on his mother’s bosom
The sweet eminences of life come forth as new life grows pulsating, breathing through the void

Word count: 357
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