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by Conor Matthews 4 days ago in inspirational

A poem

Photo by NASA on Unsplash

A dissipating beam,

Still in the dark,

Its source long dead,

As long as the void.

Its friends flicker,

Fading and dying out,

But still it travels,

Amongst the destroyed.

It'll be the same,

One of these centuries,

Worn away by time,

Like land by the waves.

It'll never stop,

Not until the end,

No matter how it wishes,

Begs and craves.

It has no god,

To praise or damn,

For its lucky,

To not be ignored.

It knows not to blame,

What was never there,

Ironically in the heavens,

But it sees no Lord.

It could've been anything,

As immaterial and such;

Breeze, Love, Thought,

Storm, Hate, Scream.

But what it'll be,

It has accepted,

A night's sky,

Without a single beam.


About the author

Conor Matthews

Writer. Opinions are my own.

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