(no subject)
It would be a far better thing to return to the soil than remain trapped in this form. Abandoned I feel. True friends are those that answer the cry and rally behind.If the absent rains would come and fall as heavy as my heart we should all be drowned and washed away. Gone would be the footprints of man. A thousand years from now, should an archaeologist happen upon them, where would yours be left? Deep in the good, giving earth beneath a canopy of green? Or gone from the impressionless, unyielding asphalt? The black and yellow striped serpents that twine and writhe through unnatural forests of steel and brick. I wonder, did the hands that lay those bricks and temper that steel think it a grand and noble task or was it just another job, another day, another dollar? You may think mad of me but not to worry. Although I scarcely have any rage left in me for the dying of the light, I shall not soon go quietly into that good night.