The call of yesterday

Blood soaked soils of yesterday, now fill and consume all. Life ticks eternal rest upon the shores that once so full of life now lay dissolute, abandound  and at peace amongst themselves.

The giant circaling globe once so full of precious treasure now lays drained and dry, its inhabitants so consumed by self conceit, forgot the harmony of life and in so doing tore away the very heart of that which once sustained them and now they slip away upon the shores of time to drift and dream, of what once was, and what once, could have been.

Rain still falls round upon the baron land, hot and dry it falls, its rancid acid presence burning deep with in the soils of old, eating past the barriers of the long gone dead. Where once dreams freely roamed upon the sphere of silent night, now pure and deathly silence lingers on and on. A world full of words no more, listless and lifeless rolling on its rotting carcass all that is left of a “wise” old race that once teamed with life.

The beauty of all that was now gone, nature weeps her silent tears, her breath drawn now in gasps, the death rattles chilling call, soon too she sleeps. She dreams of her long gone children, those she fought so long and hard to sustain, give life and chance, who one by one turned upon her and bit the hand that feeds.

Laying now upon her death bed, waiting for her end she wonders where it was that she went wrong, what it was she did so bad that those she cherished, those she loved and fed, who’s every falling tears cut deep with in her heart, should turn upon her, rape her very heart and soul and kill there mother dead. Why so consumed by greed and hate, they strangled the very life they sought so hard to preserve, why though grown full pelt with self stuffed knowledge, lost the wisdom and ability to see that through there progress was there own demise.

Even when they hurt her, cut away her arms, took gifts that where hers and hers alone, to make a better end, pawning the very gift of life itself in labs across the land, creating not that natural beauty but something made by man, through all of this she loved them each and everyone, producing food to feed them, finding ways around the mess they made, and cleaning up each new mistake.

Still on and on they went, taking more and more, she tried to warn them not to fly to high, to take there time and stand, great waves of warning across the land she threw, to show them they must stop, but still they plodded on, ignoring all she gave.

And now she lays here dieing her children are all gone, nothing comes from nothing, and from nothing it began.

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~ by Duma Key on September 16, 2008.

One Response to “The call of yesterday”

  1. I have heard the call… it was today… it was here… i felt it as i heard it… intensity and pain with purpose…”nothing comes from nothing, and from nothing it began.”

    brilliant prose

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