...The ground shook
with sadness
and the dust from the bones of
the long dead drifts along
with the breeze like
a torn leaf carried by
the stream
Fading into distance til it's
forgotten
Hope is not
arrogant and selfish
unlike the men at the end of
a spider's web
desperately trying to
reach the rim of the hole
for air
But like the leaf, we
are torn
It will soon come to the edge
and the sun will be
cold...