Saturday, 6 August 2011

The Loss of All

Had I known for a fact,

That the spine was not intact,

That it wobbled and it quivered,

That it shook and it shivered,

Slowly falling to its knees,

Begging aimlessly,

Full of pleas,

Distracting the essentials,

Cajoling false potentials,

Leading down a hidden path,

Consequences aftermath,

Until the obvious was clear,

Sent a tingle, edged in fear,

Could this all really be happening?

Was it likely seen a blessing,

Yet, when finally it did fall,

Could that really be it all?

No one heard the deadly silence,

Or realised its reliance,

Until eventually the dust did settle,

Nothing stood in the end,

Apart from twisted metal.

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