The land has begun crumbling into the sea, Being eaten by the waves And destroyed by the salt
Feet dangle over the edge of a cliff And tap together as mist fills the air and fog spreads above the sand
The sun has decided to take a day off, And the sky is a smooth and consistent shade of grey
Raindrops the size of infants flood the ground And turn the sand into mush Causing shoes to become buried treasure
Seagulls screech their wretched sounds and beg to be fed They've become fat and dependent They hardly even fly around, anymore
The shore barely exists, right now And the water is trying to become the land
shore.
Author: Arlo Disarray
0
Date: 25/03/2020
№ 1193438
Girl at the shore
She liked throwing stones at seagulls, At a shore where water was green, And waves coming from so... far, That you would have to wait for it, And so they did, the waves... They always came back, sooner or later. And she would just stand, throwing stones, At ones who seemed to enjoy the majesty of ocean, And she couldn't, because she feared the waves would carry her away; Thus, standing, throwing, screaming... hurting others, Cowering beneath her fear, Frowning over her own inability
A casket of broken views in what Was once elegance, now but cut To thin shards of what it once was A home. Now all but skeletal because The view sullen in there departed thoughts.
Windows to the soul of a home desolate In greetings, a ragged cloth does wait static As if the wind dare not to tamper indoors. But only cartilage of wood is viewed from shores.
It still wanders on the landscape in static motion, Doors still shut to viewing but in tarnished notion Once in elegance it was perceived but no more. As it sits abandoned, dilapidated is its docor.
This life Can be boiled down To a few out of body experiences In my boxers In my bed With my dog Laying on the floor Between the clean pile And the dirty one
It can be traced By borrowed books And cigar butts And little bits of broken glass That I still find on the back porch
It can be measured If you hold it up to the light And see how much shines through, Leaking out the other side Like the drip of a faucet To be carried away By the river That takes all life Eventually
I found myself Washed up in the dark On the cool wet stone Of the shore. I couldn't see the river But the current rumbled With the voice of the ender Reaching out to pull me in.
A slate of all the shades of blue softly Cloaks my eyes. One glittering, fluttering star A Diamond tear from heavenly cries. Cotton puffs sailing through in a fabric of white Like faceless angels. But I can see them smile at me- A sky-candle in the night.
The waves near the sea shore Ebbing and swimming upon themselves; they fight, Drowning each other fleetingly, but not The gleeful whisper of the sprinting breeze
My eyes seize A pair of white wings Followed by a million pairs of flying feathers Their beaks grazing upon the Greenish water that slowly shifts to the lightest blue. A zillion shades of unearthly hue Disappears softly with the sky Like the perfect blending of souls.
Hear the unexplained, here The scintillating brilliance of nature Comes back to you. Within and beyond of transient fingers is The ethereal transcendence. Nature. Beauty like God.
