winking out

the grass beneath my feet seemed to wither to fade from verdant life to brown nothingness of dust to blow about

as if the bankrupt nature of my very soul was leeching the very essence of existence from the sphere beneath

and she sat there in her loveliest dress watching the ravens with an abstraction of nonchalant melancholy

yet still my convoluted truth was enraptured in her tangled roots siphoning precious minerals to leave only rot

a passiveness that spread like a contagion to engulf her every photon in unfathomable darkness like stars winking out

One thought on “winking out

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