Sunday, December 6, 2009

Hope to Mitigate

When The World is gone,
Scorched or flooded.
When The Last few remain,
Searching aimlessly.

Nights drawing in,
A scant decaying rhythm.
The last leaves of autumn,
Falling towards the ground.

A simple skeleton,
For a timeless gravestone.
The last and eternal rest,
A vigil to nothing.

Will the winds still think,
The tides still breath,
Or the clouds ponder lonely.
Will everything just stop.
Like a tree falling silently.

2 comments:

  1. amazing poem.
    i like the last stanza the most.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love it. Beautiful poem, conjures sadness.

    ReplyDelete