Tears

What are we doing, what are we worth?

Warmed by sun on dust,

floating on a deep cold

nightscape,

a star creates it own aura

for standing giants to see.

They sprang from soup,

seeded with the future.

But their eyes

could not penetrate

the dark.

They bent to the will

of the strongest,

knowing it wrong,

as there are no gods.

There is only man

upon this fragile rock.

Only man stands,

his eyes averted,

as the un-toned symphony

cracks the earth

and buries her soul.

 

01/03/19

Author's Note

Reviews

[wordman]

almost touching on creation john

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Ah and man's destructive nature too Ron, many thanks.

[wordman]

you`re welcome john

[Kay]

I really liked reading this from beginning to end. The wording of the visuals in this piece connected in unexpected and pleasant ways. "Warmed by sun on dust", "They sprang from soup,/seeded with the future", "the un-toned symphony/cracks the earth".. Very well written!

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you so much Kay I appreciate it.

[gram linski]

Enjoyed this, John, the evolution of life, of man, as mother earth covers her eyes in shame , it's in our D.N.A., why would we need a cannaboid receptor, you may well ask,

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Ah the age old question gram. I guess we just love plant life! Cheers.

[Chris Shaw]

We are inflicting nothing but damage and yet we have the power to do so much more that could enhance our status. In the end we are nothing but dust. A depressing outlook on the state of play. We'll written John.

Chris

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Indeed we have the power but choose not to use it. Thanks Chris.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

big wow on the last five lines...excellent wording...
yes, what are we doing...to Mother Earth and to ourselves...chaos and ruination...
there needs to be a "start over"!

j.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you so much jacob.