The burning sun dips behind the buildings
That blur my view.
They stand, strong sentinels,
Soldiers from another time.
Heavy with rust,
Bowing with age,
Yet their proud necks extend
Stretching tall toward the Heavens,
Regaling another far off time.
An epoch when the world still,
Flourished.
Before the insect-like destruction.

The tears coursing down my cheeks,
They are memories.
Stories and tales of my beautiful world
Before it slipped through my grasp
Like water in cupped hands.
I mourn my loss
And your loss.
The epitaph of the world reads:
Silence.
Illegibly carved onto the backs
Of those who walk her surface
And for now, we all choose to ignore it.

I can nearly hear your soul
It rumbles like a storm.

I feel it when we collide
It batters me like a hurricane,
Meeting the shore.

You move so quickly that I stumble,
Buffered by the wind you stir up.

No part of you is made from solid ground
You're an intangible being, like the sky.

I pray for a sign, a miracle,
Something to help me handle you.

Yet over and over I return
The helpless child drawn to the flame
Reaching toward familiar fire
Only to feel the same old burn, and shame.

There is no lesson to be learned
It is no life,
But it is mine.