ℒost Ash

time with the sun,

unlike the volcano she 

understands the ash.

the sun not abandons its

rays. the volcano, dripping

and burning, the magma

that it has left alone,

confused. long to sit in

the hay, the reassuring

warmth of the sun's rays

that you so often see.

but all you receive is the 

foul smell of burning flesh,

washed away in pain by the

lost triangle of rock, bubbling

up from inside. the rough fabric

of your shirt brushes your skin

and you realize that there 

is nothing between the sun,

the volcano. though they

used to be so alike, they 

are separated by light-years.

one on earth, one in space.

darkness overcomes the

volcano, for the sun's light

blinks and burns out, choosing

only to go dark over the

single pile of rock.

they had turned on

each other and did

not return. the truth 

of the lost beings was

found. the world went

dark, only a black

sphere of sash, broken

by the two elements of

lush earth. a single spark

of hope fell from the

sun, but the volcano 

only turned furthur

away. lost in guilt

of the things done,

a single tear fell 

from the abandoned 

sun, so abundant 

with love. but the

black had overcome

the volcano, and

the world did not

take a breath once more.

The End

2 comments about this poem Feed