Poetry

And so they fed me to the wolves
if only to watch my blood dry
and create their new earth
with no reaction, nor sigh

And so they left me to decay
amongst broken weed
in favour of their own dismay
awaiting a new seed

And so they watched me drown
hopelessly without remorse
listening to my last ever breath
waiting for a new course

And so and so and so
here I sit
fantasising once more
that lonliness is not a trait
as an illusion is a better cure

For there is no they
there is nothing
all but images and sound
profound in my mind
yet
exciting to the blind
and in my bewilderment
i have become a cyncial beast
alone on a man made mountain
as useful as bread without yeast.