Sylvia

 

When I finally die

It will have been from 

  A broken heart. 

The Deer's Soul

Field flies. 

As far as the eye stretches

The land is on fire, 

Reduced to a begrudged simmer 

 Of death 

And uselessness. 

Coaling embers of wood puffing

  The wind fanning the endless char in the sky. 

The air is fowl of cow manure

And both rotting and burning flesh;

uninhailable, 

Like a promise of your demise to follow. 

A Black Plague

Come in the form of fire. 

A dark soot filling the lungs and the Earth. 

It is the end, 

   For their eyes...

Are all lifeless. 

They died, eyes wide open, staring still at me somehow, 

Preserved in that moment in time, 

  Knowing they lost, 

As the death took them, 

But not before the sickness did. 

For it was the sickness, 

That managed to lock them in time-staring openly forever 

Dooming their soul, 

As never did they reach heaven, 

And I, 

Just stood there, 

Staring back. 

Satan had landed in this world, 

  And I lived now, 

To see the result. 

It was to end this way. No Justice. I witnessed. We all witnessed. And nothing could stop the momentum He put into play. 

Now the world is on fire, 

And my death soon to be the blank stare 

 

Of this deer's soul, 

Gazing back at my own. 

Our fate, 

Was always, 

Ever

Death.