Collection of my unfinished poetry written to daily prompts. |
It's been an eternity, it's only been a day. The bruised sky looked down upon the forgotten field, and finds sorrow in it's abandonment. Once it teemed with activity as they scrambled to make him happy. The wheat would not ripen and the rivers would not flow if they did not recognize his greatness. They didn't know he loved them, that he would bless them no matter their obedience. They built monuments to him, made sacrifices in his name. Yet all that did was cause him pain. Perhaps, in that way, they had accomplished their goal. The sky would weep for their ignorance. He did not ask them to worship him, or force them to pray. They feared his electric vengeance, or his burning disdain. In their pride, they created their own demise. They blamed themselves for his inattention, but not for his power. He would never punish their imperfections. Their hell was self-imposed, and they destroyed their own world. All in the name of obedience and pious righteousness. All he really wanted was their love, not their fear. Now they are gone, but the sky remains. And still the wheat grows, and the rivers flow. But there is no one to tend them. Just an empty monument to days gone by. And a bruised sky, alone in his sorrow. Day 4 Image: Ruins of Mayan pyramid amongst the wild weeds and overcast sky |