i want to die on the road
at the hands of something beautiful
i'm not quick to
leave this sad place behind
but the beauty -
the scarce amount of it that's left
in this cruel world -
is enough to make me feel so insignificant
that nothing is really worth it
and nothing compares to it
it was summer. nights out west were hot and dry. the highway stretched ahead of us for days; no one ahead, no one behind; just us and the road and the star-laced sky above. i kept thinking that i wanted to die here someday, under this same sky, counting stars like seconds. one-one-thousand two-one-thousand three-one-thousand four..
they really mean it when they named it death valley
take one step outside
and every
last
drop
of water
every
last
inch
of hope
leaves your body
in that very instant
the sun is angry
burns every thing to a crisp
black, blacker, blackest
you ever seen the grand canyon? nah, man. not pictures. seen it. been there. looked over the edge down at the drying river below. stood a little to close for comfort, hungry condors above you waiting for you to fall. sound scary? you can catch yourself. mama nature has a way of granting mercy – whether you want her to or not. she'll catch you when you fall, baby. she always will.
let me tell you
how powerful
this world is
to die
by the hands of it
god what a beautiful thing
the last thing they see
are the rocks
and the niagara falls crashing over them
it has the power
to possess
to hypnotize
to seize
carpe omnia, baby
did you know that the most beautiful place in america is the most deadly? it's so deceptive; a sleeping god yet to unleash his wrath. the beauty with the ability to burn, to scar, to ****. deceptive splendor in pools of sulfur, deep blue like sapphire bleaching rocks starch-white and murdering trees. i saw a bison laying at the edge, the smell of burning fur hung heavy in the air. everything there was dead and it was a tragically beautiful thing.