Author: |
Kenneth E Barnes |
ISBN: |
9781626750692 |
Publisher: |
BookBaby |
Publication: |
January 26, 2013 |
Imprint: |
|
Language: |
English |
Author: |
Kenneth E Barnes |
ISBN: |
9781626750692 |
Publisher: |
BookBaby |
Publication: |
January 26, 2013 |
Imprint: |
|
Language: |
English |
Barefoot, shoes in hand my legs carried me across the sand. The only two possessions made of our mother earth were the cloths on my body and a bible in my pocket. Beneath the sand lay the crust of our earth. Hundreds of miles thick withstanding the tales of time and industrial rape. Coastal images of the forgotten land hung on the walls of a cafe. Ansel Adams no more. Photos of fiction by todays standards. Western sun stood silent, bloodshed in color. Resting on the horizons lap. Gravity lowered me to the ground. Sitting and facing our dying sun. The heavens opened up as the sun’s tear drop appeared quietly. Passing another day. Orion, Cassiopeia, Jupiter and Venus peeking around our celestial moon. Wallpapered my vision. Questions lingered in the darkest corners of my brain. Planetary suicide? Environmental ravage? Industrial execution? All these prominent around me. Technology, transportation, government, and debt no more. She cried almost hourly. Letting out quakes and molten lava. Post geological wonders lay a desperate foundation of hope. Time as we once new it stood silent. Hidden in the shadows of the scar’s we wept with her. Nothing could survive the obvious outcome of such self destruction. The silence of darkness wept me in my sleep. Dreams of historic color and meaning gave me emptiness. Colors of her post Armageddon shroud wore grey and black. Daylight was met by the blueish and orange skies. Our celestial satellite cracked in two. Showing itself to earthly onlookers. If only the artifact of time could be turned back. But her clock stood silent. For she had taken her last movement by axis alone. “Was I the only survivor shielded by her crust?” When impaired ones vision is dim. With clarity, understanding on hold. The oceans waved no more. Plants, animals and microbiological species stranded by the environmental drought on its surface. She was dying and fate lined the way. Beneath her earthly shroud a mantle was consistently changing its alignment. Like the yoke in an egg shell the core was stealth. The environmental wasteland. From above our planet one could only see absolute disgrace. “What became of the Shadow People and Eden?” In complete darkness I held tightly to the key as my journey embarked...
Barefoot, shoes in hand my legs carried me across the sand. The only two possessions made of our mother earth were the cloths on my body and a bible in my pocket. Beneath the sand lay the crust of our earth. Hundreds of miles thick withstanding the tales of time and industrial rape. Coastal images of the forgotten land hung on the walls of a cafe. Ansel Adams no more. Photos of fiction by todays standards. Western sun stood silent, bloodshed in color. Resting on the horizons lap. Gravity lowered me to the ground. Sitting and facing our dying sun. The heavens opened up as the sun’s tear drop appeared quietly. Passing another day. Orion, Cassiopeia, Jupiter and Venus peeking around our celestial moon. Wallpapered my vision. Questions lingered in the darkest corners of my brain. Planetary suicide? Environmental ravage? Industrial execution? All these prominent around me. Technology, transportation, government, and debt no more. She cried almost hourly. Letting out quakes and molten lava. Post geological wonders lay a desperate foundation of hope. Time as we once new it stood silent. Hidden in the shadows of the scar’s we wept with her. Nothing could survive the obvious outcome of such self destruction. The silence of darkness wept me in my sleep. Dreams of historic color and meaning gave me emptiness. Colors of her post Armageddon shroud wore grey and black. Daylight was met by the blueish and orange skies. Our celestial satellite cracked in two. Showing itself to earthly onlookers. If only the artifact of time could be turned back. But her clock stood silent. For she had taken her last movement by axis alone. “Was I the only survivor shielded by her crust?” When impaired ones vision is dim. With clarity, understanding on hold. The oceans waved no more. Plants, animals and microbiological species stranded by the environmental drought on its surface. She was dying and fate lined the way. Beneath her earthly shroud a mantle was consistently changing its alignment. Like the yoke in an egg shell the core was stealth. The environmental wasteland. From above our planet one could only see absolute disgrace. “What became of the Shadow People and Eden?” In complete darkness I held tightly to the key as my journey embarked...