It gets better.
It gets worse.
I'm straddling canyons.
I can't hope to traverse.
One foot in hope
The other in glory
If I was the antagonist
You were the lesson
To this somber story.
Chasms chase the sky
Rivers cut through stone
The topography of souls
The litany of oaths carved
Into the world's bones
Grows brittle, basalt to sandstone.
We become what we love,
The ravine below
The sky above
The tumbling roots of ranges
Worn by the millennial rains.
Tell me, if plains sit where
Once laid vast seas,
If mountains are made pastures
And lakes are carved from glaciers
The geography of a soul can change.
Day by day, I'm ground away
Between the mortar of memory
And the pestle of reality.
Some things broken
Can never be fixed.
Volcanic calderas, eternal flames -
The sea side's crumbling cliffs.
Some day I will be dust,
Just blowing in the wind.
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