Were we the lucky ones?
Born under fading star
Ancient history, under microscope;
survivors of a war
Did the beauty die
When we got wise
To the skull under the skin?
Did we cheat our hearts
to see the parts
of the world we’re living in?
That unsightly skeleton
Are we the aging bones and unkept promises in the shadow of The Monolith?
Are we fleeting thoughts and fading fingerprints in the shadow of The Monolith?
When the notes they sang
turned in to .wavs,
did your opera disappear?
When the poets verse is parsed back to words
it’s just syllables we hear
and it’s what we’d always feared
That we could see the paint, not what the picture is, in the shadow of The Monolith
Do we love the prism, though the rainbow’s dead, in the shadow of The Monolith?
Is it all the same, in the modern age?
Are we fleeting thoughts and fading fingerprints in the shadow of The Monolith?
Are we aging bones and unkept promises, hiding in our insignificance?
In the shadow if The Monolith
