Lilacs on the evening breeze,
a scent of home and of ease.
This walk on a now empty path
makes all these steps feel bold.
A scarf to warm a slender neck
does nothing but dance with the air.
Raindrops fall gently in free flowing hair
while a dying sun says " I don't care..."
The quiet before the storm,
the comfort before the fight,
this is the time so near the end
that charges the air with static and light.
Heat from the asphalt rises
and smothers quickly as it suprises.
Blank pages soon begin to fill
with nonsense advise on so many things.
The forests become ill and begin to rot,
while the sea rises defiant in the empty plot.
Family ties start to come undone
as the mountains blow away.
And while lovers hurt each other deeply
they realize not their plight.
Leaves and trash rise as partners
in a sick and twisted ballet.
I watch the madness unfold,
a true and epic play,
and I know, I will not be the last to fall.
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Comments on static and light.