deepundergroundpoetry.com
Tunnel at the End of Light
Seeking a parallel in quietus
from the smoking fields of nebulae
where I could see all there is,
while reality floats,
its distance doubling with the
passing of each second.
To discover there are no grasslands,
that there never was a serenity
and how lonely I am for that.
Only the tundra of planets
with equators untouched
by their inner engines
in an existence unchanged through
the fish-eye lens of light years with
tilted skull caps lined up like dominoes.
qui·e·tusˌkwīˈēdəs/ noun
death or something that causes death, regarded as a release from life.
from the smoking fields of nebulae
where I could see all there is,
while reality floats,
its distance doubling with the
passing of each second.
To discover there are no grasslands,
that there never was a serenity
and how lonely I am for that.
Only the tundra of planets
with equators untouched
by their inner engines
in an existence unchanged through
the fish-eye lens of light years with
tilted skull caps lined up like dominoes.
qui·e·tusˌkwīˈēdəs/ noun
death or something that causes death, regarded as a release from life.
Published 20th Nov 2015
| Edited 14th Jun 2018
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 0
comments 3
reads 688
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
20th Nov 2015 4:37pm
20th Nov 2015 4:46pm
22nd Nov 2015 4:03pm
A lot of depth in this piece, accompanied by fantastic imagery. Great writing.
