The Great Work
Why would I - the maker of this:
desiccated and barren effigy,
the devastated architect of this
biological monstrosity -
want to end the great work?
I ask you dear friend, why would I not?
Why linger when nothing remains:
nothing but broken bricks,
shattered glass in twisted wood;
all the hopes and dreams unspent,
gnarled by time, left irredeamable
by decisions past, my legacy.
For the canvas can take no more paint,
can take no more congealing
of beautiful youthful strokes.
The shuddering structure cracks -
each repairing touch only blemishes;
it’s beauty is lost forever.”
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