if I pass away in some foreign field

sun burnt white back bones

the brittle stations of the cross

civilisations like bones

… turn to dust



who will know to come and mourn?

if they knew, would they?

eulogy or legacy

what remains

.. other than another day



as the worlds falls apart

the strings are pulled

it all unravels, at the end

I can’t leave, but eventually I will

just passing through

© 2020 Michael D Emmerich

© 2020 mikesnexus.com