There is no grand scale, holding delicate balance,
nor a master on a throne, proclamations on it's lips.
The rivers are there to be our noose,
delicately caressing necks
before the snap.
The corpse will float down stream,
no more a careworn thing.
It bloats, and will snag.
Somewhere, a boy fishes that river,
studies forgotten, smile slowly slipping
at the sight of waterlogged body.
He will stare, prod, and ponder,
though the firework show of thoughts
will not bring knowledge.
And tomorrow the corpse floats on,
days and days forgotten,
food for fish.
'Till the matron of life swallows
it whole, more food to provide
new life.
And who is there to watch,
to bare profound thought?
A contest entry
- Such is Life by just mercedes.
4000 points, ended December 3, 2008, 37 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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This is a dark response to the prompt, with strong imagery that forces me to acknowledge that life is a cycle, and new life comes from death. Thank you for this entry.
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funnily..
I don't see it as being dark at all. Just... realistic.
Life-like i suppose. Not unfair, but not fair. Just as it is..
thanks for the comment though.
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Reminded me of the movie 'Stand by Me'. Very deep and thoughtful.
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