Eons of Gems
Born into light.
Eons ago, the foundation was fractured.
Everything built upon it was destined to angle down.
I tried to build upon it anyhow
Go big or go home... my mantra.
I fabricated blueprints for a mansion.
I was granite poor, but pastel rich.
So, I built it with conglomerate.
Midlife-earning my stripes.
I ran short of ingredients
The rain and grit slipping in... relentless.
My half mansion wobbles in the wind.
The blueprint is tattered and weeps.
The hourglass stained with cheap mascara.
Old age
I live in a tent of canvas skin and fatigue,
Chilled but buffered against the icy wind.
Constantly detoxing from negative action and thought.
The bad people are receding into the black trough.
Slowly the good ones are seeping in.
Rebuilding the foundation with stout stones.
Praying hard to be topped with gems.
Death...to be continued
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