i haven't written a poem in over a month.

[tundradstortion]

The Written Word outlines evolution
from paw prints to pencil marks
every piece further concludes the puzzle of life.

Now the freight trains are paving the ways
in a shuffled suitcase of histories
and the disguise of night is revealed
when the stars trace lines
across the velvet blanket of dusk
doming over the dreams of Earth’s children.

Since the bird’s song is never enough
and life’s fate seems aimless and unsure
the scenery of the soul will poke through
the skin of the heart, contents of dead tissue and dry blood

eventually it all dies.

When cards of chance are stripped from the deck
we are left with kismet, the way it is
the way it always was
no direction will pull forth our wits, our reason

and when our hands are too full
still we gather all we can
and when we finally have everything
it amounts to nothing.

Different lives exhibit flexible accounts of mathematical equations
some raise sky high and some never leave the floor of the world
but no matter where your numbers are when you reach the final moment
for each and every person, it always ends up being zero.