Mother nature and the nature of man conflict.
Warm, humming wires and whirring cogs now frozen still.
Once occupied minds, now desperately try and grasp on to anything.
Anything even remotely reminiscent of a few hours ago.
The soft hum of spinning fans would be a delight.
A reassuring reminder that even though my conscious self is occupied, things are working.
I do not remember the last time I picked up a pen.
Already my fingers have begun to ache.
Have I really filled out half a page?
If there really is a Hell, and we're living it,
then this must be purgatory.
Whatever I am writing right now has no purpose.
I haven't decided why I even began.
Maybe I'm bored.
Maybe I wanted to make use of however much sunlight I have left.
Maybe I'm remembering my life at a much simpler time.
Warm, humming wires and whirring cogs now frozen still.
Once occupied minds, now desperately try and grasp on to anything.
Anything even remotely reminiscent of a few hours ago.
The soft hum of spinning fans would be a delight.
A reassuring reminder that even though my conscious self is occupied, things are working.
I do not remember the last time I picked up a pen.
Already my fingers have begun to ache.
Have I really filled out half a page?
If there really is a Hell, and we're living it,
then this must be purgatory.
Whatever I am writing right now has no purpose.
I haven't decided why I even began.
Maybe I'm bored.
Maybe I wanted to make use of however much sunlight I have left.
Maybe I'm remembering my life at a much simpler time.
No comments:
Post a Comment