So, this is the piece I’m currently working on (well, at least poetically. I have a prose story idea that I am constructing right now as well.) I don’t know what I’m trying to do with this piece. Something with the age of man, the mystery of the past, and the romanticism of lost civilizations…
Just remember it’s not complete.
Down, down, and
Down
through blues
purples
into deepest
blacks
Hot and black
amidst the smoking stacks
of an alien world
Here where
everything
is a stranger
a wanderer
where nothing is welcome
and nothing
stays
it lies
if the suns rays
could reach
glory would be
reflected back
but this place
fell
so long ago
Where angels walked
now demons swim
Monuments to Man
pride
lie broken
scattered
few stand
humbled by the vast
nothingness
covered and veiled in
microbial life
that is their only
witness
Here man was born
and here
civilization died
where miracles and marvels
once hurried about
there is only
the smoke
the darkness
