Imagine a cave where no human has strayed
Nor a scurrying creature has crept;
Ever haunting the deep, subterranean glade
Where the bones of the forest are swept;
A piteous icon is carved, drip by drip,
And forever in darkness it sits -
Who beholds of this vision will tremble, afraid
Of the place where Time sat and wept.
Two unmet lines pit-a-pat
my wandering mind
Curl a finger flick a string
Small vibration made it scream
Are we really that comfortably unconcerned
that after we die,
our digital footprints
are left behind?
Just clustered trails
of our digital souls as if they're really that essential other than our physical presence - piled up from inactivity found in just one click from a mere search bar available to whoever dares to know about our false relevance.
I live in a bubble
It protects me from the ash and rubble
My own small bubble
It keeps me out of trouble
I live in my bubble
But now I’m in danger and see double
Who popped my bubble?
Let the cold weather deep freeze our soul,
And let the sun shine deep fry it.
But after the extreme,
Do find the in between.
Let it melt under the shade of the past,
And let the scorching rays of hope find it.
Hoping to meet a familiar gaze
from the concrete faces,
in the old place,
with some old ways.
As if to view from a pinhole image of
a dancing ghost from the bond
But only exchanged,
Tones of ambivalence,
And unfamiliar stares.