This breathing canvas is filled with light
silver hills and ready fruit, and life
winding in lines like vines, red grapes
clustered against the sudden frost of autumn,
in this painting, this creation, this Earth!
But at its center, darkness dominates;
core of void, the black hole draws in
all green grass and red sunsets,
star-lit hopes and loving laughter,
and sucks faith itself into the static maw
of empty eternity
No comments:
Post a Comment