This one is almost at its end
The curtain calls are getting old
What happens after this?
What happens after that?
The blood river runs to the horizon
Empties itself in the confines of space
Buries its trust in the soil of stars
Breaks and collapses and becomes whole
The play’s last run will leave a mark
But all these scars make us worn, and beautiful
The end to one, the beginning to another
Death laughs last, if he laughs at all
Death laughs last, if he laughs at all
1 comment:
i am awed. and stunned. will you write the rest of my life? "buries its trust in the soil of stars / breaks and collapses and becomes whole." cheeses, that's my new favorite line ever. i'm going to quote you on stuff. holy smokin french toast. and yeah cheeses is my new "curse." god i'm exhausted. why am i still awake? dunno. but this... what i got out of it is probably nothing whatsoever ot do with what you meant, but there's the genius of poetry. or the narcisism of humanity, whichever. the two are probably not mutually exclusive. anyways... buh bai naow.
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