CONFESSION ZERO

O! Humanity flying down! Will thou not catch thyself and stay a while longer? Can you not hear the music within you, the sweet reverie of morning warble, “Live… Live… Live…”? Look to your sky not to your feet. Look to serenity not to the eyes of oblivion. Look to the children dancing in the night. Look heavenward! Right thy journey! See the bird’s wing aloft in splendid flight, may not you be like her and stay a while longer? O! Humanity slipping `way! Do not forsake this world! Stay within her arms! If you turn `way and face not the writhing truth you’ll let slip a fragile magnificence and her children will laughter end... © 2008 by mark prime/thepoetryman

The sun had its sky, the sky had its blue, the blue had its clouds, all held to an ensuing loss. The world had its nectar to offer, stunning mountain ranges, plentiful fields of grain, sustaining waters… The sky did then forsake them on this day, widowed of a pristine love bathing them in joy, the weight of it unhappily tumbled down, congregating with one another, mourning… The sun had its sky, the sky had its blue, the blue had its clouds, all gripped in looming collapse. After the shock of death’s swift alliance with anger they held their heads high and marched onward, all the while in grief’s search they strode past denial and posed the earth's hovering question, Why did the sky abandon our trust? “I’ve never seen people enjoying their husband’s death so much.” screeched the hollow voice of the rigor-mortis-of-rant, the miscreant’s language spilled from an empty breach splintering, once again, the solemn day’s widowed sky. Copyright © 2006 markrprime/thepoetryman