Lonely Planet
All is a quick flame in the melt.
Every sunrise a bloom in the center
of nowhere.
For now we surf the body heat
of an endangered species,
but soon fate will engrave ours names
among the fallen.
We who hammer words
into quicksand
are the true immortals.
The named are strangers to the nameless.
We who live in our own earth
have long left the world.
If there is a before and after
other than this on-going
reverberation of an absentee ******,
then we will record it all
so that myth and legend
shall not perish from
this lonely planet.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
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