Of Days' End
I lay mine eyes upon the field,
forlorn to say, all undue certainty,
that yes, it is barren.
It is barren and it is sullied.
It is grass.
It is trodden.
I lay mine eyes upon the hills,
distant with a lone tree sitting atop,
fading sentience, its leaves wilt and wither.
It is withered and it is rotten.
It is bark.
It is dead.
I lay mine eyes upon the horizon,
wind pushing against it, char and ruin,
burnt scent, too long tainted putrid.
It is putrid and it is placid.
It is still.
It is silent.
I lay mine eyes upon the water,
weeping at its tide, but sad at life,
because yes, it is empty.
It is empty and it is vast.
It is ending.
And it is ending.
And yes, it is ending.
YOU ARE READING
Heuristic
PoetryA poetry collection. heu·ris·tic /hyo͞oˈristik/ adjective enabling a person to discover or learn something for themselves. "a "hands-on" or interactive heuristic approach to learning" noun a heuristic process or method.
