Ants

Like a swarm of ants at dawn,
I must confess, are the words that align as they crawl out of my chest,
to amazingly bear the immense weight of despair, all the way to earths crest,
and they're trying their best.

but large stones fall from the sky,
and moist bones pierce upward through the ground,
one would expect there to be startling cries,
but more eerily,
the displacement of earth is the only sound,

yet onward they go, these persistent ants,
each trying to re-collect a laughing child, or lovely dance,
something to hold on to, something to fill their minds,
they only partly glance,
at the scene that surrounds them, at the world that is now,
but the weight becomes heavier, and their legs
bow

their eyes swim, there endurance wains thin,
they search for strength, but find none in their limbs,
and there they remain, in the midst of the pain,
but so exhausted and hopeless, they feel no fear,
or frustration,
or
anything

their lives they have lost, though they have not been slain.


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