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They say you are just an old gravel country road
lined by trees on both sides for many a mile
but for me you are the path of escape
that leads me away from here

I often fantasize about what I would discover at your ending
akin to finding out what lies at the end of a rainbow
would it be glee or disappointment

It is said there is a great city somewhere along your route
one filled with opportunity and excitement
Containing things a rural being cannot imagine
buildings taller than all the trees stood end on end

There have been whispers of ladies of the evening
and places where someone may imbibe in a drink or two
or parlors that entertain many a man through lonely nights

A young lad with big dreams can only yearn for passage of time
for when that day comes wherein I will traverse thee till the end
to witness for myself all that has been spoken about
and to dip my toe into a world of aliveness and intrigue

Andreas Simic©
Elymaïs May 24
When my Father was a youth,
— he recalled to me how he
Remembers when all the children
Of the villages and hills
Moved away to the city.
He said that he could walk
Forty kilometres down to town
On abandoned farms alone.

Today I drive the same route
And pass the dilapidated houses
And overgrown fields and lots;
I wonder if the empty windows
Ever miss the ones who left?
Elymaïs Mar 4
When we have disappeared from this land,
Who is it that will miss us more?

The city streets who will rot without our hand,
Or the mountains, unbothered as before?
Ahmad Attr Aug 2021
You counted my infinite love
You decided a number
And said you love me back to that point
Don’t say it like that
Don’t take away my hope
Don’t go, just stay the night
Fate brought us two together from so far away,
I waited for you so long,
I gave you more than what I was capable of
Don’t leave me now that I’m alone
The nights without you are just eternal darkness
so stay
just turn around
Why do you always look up at the sky,
I’m waiting for you at the ground
just stay this night
and let love blossom and flow through our veins
a force strong like ichor
stay with me in these sand plains
underneath the crescent and the stars
among mud houses
stay in my oasis
let the heavens gaze at this union
water my deserted skin
I beg of you, stay the night
stay at my cabin
listen to distant dunes drifting in the wind
close your eyes next to me
I deserve at least this much
Something in return of my infinite love
I beg of you, stay the night
And if you go bury me underneath the pure soil
Where your feet kissed the ground
O Sacred being, let me become dust; gone
Lord will protect you as you go on
I beg you, don't go
Creepypumpkins Feb 2021
In rural areas there is
This demon
Called
Sirenhead
Who I have seen
For this is a time
Of war
And pandemic
His favourable time
To be of public display
As for mei am not insane
For I had a witness to the sirenhead sighting
Near my old home town
Almonte
Creepypumpkins Feb 2021
Living where I am living
No matter the seasons
It feels like
I am living in
A studio ghibli
Movie
Where everything is green
Perfect
And dream like
I wonder if my next door neighbour
Is Totoro
Creepypumpkins Feb 2021
There was one morning
A farmer so insenced
For someone
Put beautiful crop
Circles
Geometric in nature
In his wheat field that
Called the police
A man of science
The farmer
Didn’t believe in aliens
But was it the work of vandalism
Or
Is the truth out there
Creepypumpkins Feb 2021
As I drive
By a field
I see  hydro towers
Hydro towers that Eriely look like
Ancient Native American
Art
I am in awwww
Only man create something
That surreal
casper Nov 2020
As potent as the drugs flowing from an IV drip,
I the prodigal son of this town,
the only one to infuse the blood of a much needed sacrifice into it's veins,
the one to carry the souls of those past,
those future,
those fleeting few at the end when the long standing foundation that has held up countless feet and dreams,
no longer stands and in it's place breadcrumbs fall,
thousands from the sky,
folly and few,
until embedded in the very ground it lands upon.

I, the one from the third house down the lane,
the all seeing all knowing all feeling touch,
climb the silo and above take in the view,
the little lives and scattered stories,
told once in still rooms with only the orange light of a desk lamps,
then carried away on drool into the storm drain,
with the leaves and street grit.

I, the babe,
once innocent and tender,
and still so within me exists,
carried through an entire lifetime on a sled,
down the sidewalk with only the sight of street-lamps as stimuli,
past every corner and home a dream implanted from my eyes to theirs,
yet mistranslation corrupts the many and what can I do but allow,
their own bibles to be written.

This town belongs to one king and one son on both sides of the mountain,
snow to teach them lessons,
rain to cleanse their wounds,
and to keep this monolith of a civilization alive,
all that is prophesied,
to run far, far away,
in place.
Dedicated to my home town.
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