
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?
Or “friend”…
In this world, is that word not miracle enough?
LikeLiked by 1 person
haha indeed! Thank you for stopping by Woodsy, I’m always happy to write knowing you’re out there reading.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This read like a scene from a movie. Do you do screen writing I mean screenplay stuff. Your words are strong visuals. .
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you very much! I can’t say I’ve ever tried anything like that. Food for thought 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
You welcome
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nice blog
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for reading 🙂
LikeLike