Free Verse
Meaning of Life Scavenger Hunt
What are we eating? He asked to a fleeing ‘us.’ That crunched beside was beyond biblical, done by a thing God sicked death on and has them running faster than the miserable masses. Calls us monsters, I don't have to hear it, as it remembers its ethereal end and poof, goes back to the end of justifying means as time resorts to only the fleeting final spark dying; end-of-time jowls are always waiting to snap back shut, we'll restart the carousel. Ground quakes, fucks up the sprint, every stutter, I wonder where it went right and how. Can’t think and find the right turn at the same time, at some point in the hall of doors, that one the Scooby Gang will see six times before the trap is set at the ‘RED one this time.’ I died, didn’t I? Is this limbo!? Unseen, haven’t dove further in this fading realm yet. Oh well. So far, in every glance, there are flickering lights, and every glint of hope is a breath down the neck with a firmly whispered, "never." “I hope you’re back there? Groundlessness won’t stop me there!”
By Willem Indigo5 months ago in Poets
