Wednesday, September 08th, 2010

The Fall

Stoic cliffs
enclose the chasm,
hemming in hidden growth,
lush and sweet.
Forbidden.

Wayward soul,
wide with helpless terror,
heaves itself
time and time again
upon unforgiving stone.
Transgression.

Scarred and marked,
battered walls bear testament
to endless,
hopeless,
vain attempts.
Blood.

Slow and silent,
golden orb moves,
hot and heartless,
passing time and weary judgment.
Condemned.

Broken spirit,
trembling and exhausted,
tongue swollen with thirst,
slips into solemn repose.
Sacrificial.

Vacant bones lay,
nestled in the verdant green
of their succulent last supper,
ten feet below.
Rejected.

The tomb unopened.