The Field Goes on Forever
the field goes on forever. waist high in barren weeds of dried thicket and brush. there are no hillsides only the reminants of broken rivers, that criss cross like myveins through this emptiness. the air is cold, bitter, and i pull myself closer to myself, shivering to keep my eyes open. im frozen. yet, i keep reaching out in the abandoned air of the darkest night. the wind rips across the field, over my broken body, and into my dessicated lungs. i cant breathe, i need to move. keep searching for shelter, but its so cold. thorns, and bristled brush, gnarled in tormented shapes, biting at my legs, and feet, i keep walking against the gales from clouds that are too low to the ground, to be real. everything hurts, my eyes tear, little droplets of you, stick to my face and freeze. i feel you everywhere, but i cant find you anywhere, the field goes on forever. the dark, the night, is pervasive, in its disregard. its hollowness is justified, echoing the deepest cries from inside, my heart. stripped naked. the elements of nature and the force of the universe crashes down upon me like lightening and firey rains. penentraing my flesh, scarring my used to be. there is no beauty in this landscape, there is only nothing. everything is dry and empty. invisible barbed wire cuts my skin, when i turn towards, you. im looking for you. im looking for home. the field goes on forever and i have miles to go before i sleep.
before i sleep.
posted by swordpoet @ 11:06 AM
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