A Whisper From The End!

Final sun sets low, Steel skeletons grasp at sky, Silence is our god.

Cherry blossom falls, Into the cracked, thirsty earth, Did it live at all?

Rust consumes the blade, That once carved a lover’s name, Wind recites it now.

Last light in the pane, A shadow without a cast, The clock eats its hands.

Beneath the cold soil, Seed dreams of a sun it missed, Roots are its only sky.

Radio static hymns, A choir for empty chairs, The sermon is done.

Child's forgotten doll, One glass eye watches the rain, Erosion’s slow blink.

We built towers high, To touch the indifferent stars, They gifted us dust.

The last known heartbeat, Echoes in a dried-up well, A rhythm for worms.

Frost on the windows, Spells out a language of loss, Before the glass breaks.

Ocean’s final wave, Laps at a shore of bones and glass, Then forgets the moon.

Was meaning the fight, Or the quiet moment after, When the sword grew heavy?

Crows on a power line, Debating the flavor of smoke, In a world now cooked.

My breath on the glass, The only ghost I believe in, Fading with the heat.

Life was a spark, brief, Against the everlasting dark, A beautiful cough.