Among the restful scrub
where instinct has now lead me
where all my life has guided me
to make my final bed
to seek my lasting rest
I know nothing of reflection
I know nothing of desire
only my tenebrous recollection
preserves me from despair.

Curling into this familiar earth
comforting myself in torpidity
a hush has fallen
the wild is calling
hunting grounds so far away
and a lifetime left long behind
weary from my relict existence
becoming myth in my own time
I surrender.

Dysfunctionally now extinct
an endling yet not unique
there is no solace in my solitude
there is only a dreadful peace
and as I commence
this caliginous descent
I wonder
am I to become your trophy
or am I sandwich meat?

7 thoughts on “Terminarch

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