Why are we removed from nature?
The moon retreats.
The stars keep their distance.
Trees and grass hide from sight.
The ice caps recede daily.
Soon they will only be memories
Of better times lived in the past.
What will remain?
The destruction we have wrought.
moody-nature
IMG_4842 // By Robert Guimont
THE SWAMP
The swamp holds mysteries,
Silence within its barren domain.
Eyes peek through the sheer surface,
Hinting at the dangers lurking below.
Lacking is the bird’s song of twilight.
Missing is the rustle through the brush.
Silence holds us in its thrall,
Cold fingers clasping around my neck.
Humid air coats my mottled body,
Mutilated by blood-thirsty mosquitoes.
The path teases my mind’s eye,
Offering a way out of this hellhole.
I hack at the dried branches,
Threatening to leave me with one eye.
I’ve reached the end of my journey
As my feet sink in the quicksand of despair.
A barren wasteland.
Nature has forgotten.
The sun ignores.
Green no more.
Ahead awaits the mansion.
Its residents not living.
Watching through the windows
All who dare to visit.
A maze of rooms
Offering psychedelic delights.
Of times gone by
And life forgotten.
THE DEAD GAME
In the dark of night,
a plant grows by itself.
Around it the land is barren.
No colors shimmer in the darkness,
besides the deep blue of its petals.
It hangs its head down low,
weeping for its loneliness,
waiting for other flowers to bloom.
But sadly, it must wait in vain,
for no other plant will flower nearby.
