A FUTURE ALL TOO NEAR

where is everyone? by travisanderson

 

 

What might the future hold?

Buildings of concrete and stone.

Travel by flying cars.

Trees of green foam.

Sunlight only a reflection.

Lighted sabers for protection.

A future hard to bear,

A future all too near.

 

 

A SIGH OF NIGHT

Epiphanie © Etienne Cabran

 

It’s here.

Too near.

A mist of white.

A sigh of night.

Through the window.

“You friend or foe?”

A cold touch of ice.

Doesn’t feel too nice.

It now whispers away,

“You’re not welcome to stay.”

I’m leaving now.

I don’t care how.

Fingers wrap around my neck.

On my cheek I feel a peck.

Could that be a kiss?

Wasn’t hard to miss.

I’m chilled to the bone.

I’ve turned to cold stone.

A FUTURE ALL TOO NEAR

where is everyone? by travisanderson

 

 

What may the future hold?

Buildings of concrete and stone.

Travel by flying cars.

Trees of green foam.

Sunlight only a reflection.

Lighted sabers for protection.

A future hard to bear.

A future all too near.

TURNED TO STONE

enyaja:

TURNED TO STONE

I have turned to stone.

I’m chilled to the bone.

The coldness is spreading.

Where can this be heading?

Please help me.

You can see.

Life is at its end.

I can’t even bend.

Who’s my deadly foe?

I still need to know.

Leave me be.

You shouldn’t see

What I’ve become.

Leave and be gone.

DEAR STATUE

DEAR STATUE

So alive.

I could hear you breathing.

Is that a moan?

Maybe it was the wind.

Is that a rustle of clothing?

Maybe someone else is in the garden.

Is that a sigh?

I heard a sigh.

Are you tired of standing still?

Is that a tear on your cheek?

Your eyes look sad.

Reflecting a remorse so deep

that I can feel it.

What else do I feel?

A whisper of breath on my face.

Are you breathing, dear one?

Are you alive beneath the stone?

Raise your head.

Look me in the eye.

It’s time to be free.

Let your soul be free

and soar above on your wings.

Take flight, dear one.

Take flight.

A DARK CASTLE

A dark castle.<br /> Imagine what stories<br /> its walls could tell if<br /> they could talk to us.<br /> Stories of the families<br /> who had lived there.<br /> Are there ghosts lurking<br /> inside these walls?<br /> Spirits who have unfinished business.<br /> Maybe we could see them roaming<br /> the empty halls at night.<br /> This what happens when you have<br /> an over-active imagination.

A dark castle.

Imagine what stories

its walls could tell if

they could talk to us.

Stories of the families

who had lived there.

Are there ghosts lurking

inside these walls?

Spirits who have unfinished business.

Maybe we could see them roaming

the empty halls at night.

This what happens when you have

an over-active imagination.