Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Dust of the Passing Age

We cannot see the mountain from atop
We can only see what is below
The valley of our sorrow
The dust has taken over
From the failures
Of our hand
We walk and are covered
The dust rises
We are smothered
By the debris
Of our acts
The world we created
Falls before inevitable entropy
And the world before our arrival
And the dust
Covers every single footprint
Of our debacle
Hiding our existence
And beginning anew