What's to become of us
when all that we've coveted
is emptied of all value

What's to become of us
when the words we traded
seem to have lost their meaning

What's to become of us
when common ideals
turn to conflict

What's to become of us
when all that has been invested
gets swallowed by doubt and mistrust

What's to become of us
when we stand so close
yet between our hearts lies a lie

you were not my prey
on this long hot day

though it seemed you
sensed you were

skittering in front of me
on the trail forever

or at least 1000 seconds--forever
in lizard time

perhaps you knew who I was, a reptile killer
since the dawn of man

or since my perverse pubescence, when I'd hunt
whiptails and rattlers  

and take prickly pride in how many of you
my .22 Ruger would slaughter

I have that time hidden in gray folds
beneath an old skull  

I don't carry the weapons of war,
anymore

but I can't deceive you, not in the naked
light of the sun

you were right to run; though I have concealed
my blood lust, you know it is still there

It's just a sandbox of reality,
a temporary timeshare, ours for now.
So what if, by some staggering degree,
we've simply let it go awry somehow,
and left the land in tears,
ignoring all the knowledge that we did
acquire through the years
to shuffle on, bemused by life, amid
the Ev'rests of destruction that we leave?
Yea, better that we humans all were rid,
to gift her with the time she needs to grieve
and banish all her fears.

This self-destruction is, you must agree,
a crueler tribute than we can allow.
She's just a sandbox of reality,
a temporary timeshare,

ours -

for now.