Stealing Nature Symbols In Forewarning Of Darkness

In a deep growl of angered

Dingo's throat

There comes a slight call of remorse-



No one knows where the vanquished lie

When the tarps laid down by sympathisers

Dissapear, or sink wearily beneath the trodden moss.



The tools that began, and built

Civilization

May be better put to use molted down,



Like an unused junkies blood through syringe,



Laid to waste in liquid fire,

And stored as hunks of metal junk

To be put to better use someday.



Clock towers, and Archetypal sculptures

Stand erect over war zones

Untouched by bombs, or destruction.



One chimes on the fifteen mark,

The others stand silent; as if unchallenged.

We accept this as a polite delusion.



The tended gardens and well-shaped hedges

Wish to correct these overly hopeful idols.

The greenery beneath the Rooke cries out,



"We have only recently been planted,

Fertilized, and left to grow.

Why is it statues without name

Dare their adversaries to destroy us?"

The Monoliths had no answer



For their fate beheld repetitions

Recurring since the birth of architecture.

They had watched the lawns, reshaped,



And the streets, repaved,

And the glory of Humanity

Be sacrificed for their salvation



Again and again; until they became as hardened

As the demolition machines' spike,

And flare that could destroy them, as well.



The serpents sought a new way

The apple could be used, eaten,

Or symbollically represented.



But the apples had already been accused

Of treason, and exhaulted down

Into history beyond reason.



They gathered their rotten cores,

Threw in unedible acorn shells,

And offered themselves to maggots, instead of men.



The Wizards, Saints, and Prophets

Were also tired of searching for deeper meaning.



-There was something so simple

In the way the plan had gone wrong.



Excess- Too much of everything,

For everyone, all of the time.



The supplies of logic were running out.



The wealthy begged the poor

For financial advice.

While the Oracle sought wisdom

From sandstone slipping with the tide.



Where is content to be found

If the leaves blown for purpose

Never stop scattering, or churning,

And cannot rest long enough

To attempt regrowth?



The Dingo's growl sat unpleasently in the ear

Of Hyenas and Jackals who were just

Beginning their screams and yelps.



The Coyote barked out, "I can play that game, too."



And the Prairie Dog rose an eye, an ear,

From the tundra of once plentiful soil

And winked-



The time had come again to shift foundations.



And all the dogs knew

Termites and mold

And crumbling terraces were plentiful.



The Archways and uphill aquaducts shuddered.

They were tired of rebuilding

Upon land that could sustain them

If the Earth's tremors allowed as much.



Lizards refused to rise from shadow

As Hawks and Falcons

Outhunted Eagles and Buzzards.



The warning screamed across trees,

Without wind to startle them,

And became magnetic; like a leaf,

Or twig stuck upright from the ground.



There is magic in the search for water

Throughout barren land.

But there is misery in the dry husk,

Without any fruit to offer,

And the water pump without dribble



-Turning cold, and rusty,

And insignificant as asphalt

Where buildings will never rise,

And life will never tread.