The Final Witness
Shallowly sagging in vicious winds of a cold autumn night,
The grass vibrates me a tune as I wander forwards through green and yellow forest,
Blissful mist of rain creating small fluorescent puddles on my skin.
The acidic thorns of men once stood behind the walls of fantasy seeping into the water,
Scorching my skin,
Red splotches ooze remnants of a world once to have been seen beneath heavy eyelids.
I trek forwards ignoring these facts within my mind,
The wind increasing alongside with my foothold’s ever decreasing stature,
Mud slipping towards the sky!
My bones breaking underneath great weight of earth,
Beneath the sorrow and anguish of stagnant rain and mist,
To infect my blood even further still.
Gather feet of the old men,
To stand before the storm alone,
Witness the final day!
Do not weep