Man Alive-Deep Purple
Written: February 25, 2024
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A sun sets in the west; oh, boy, he has gone to rest,
Mama grips her breast in an apocalyptic pain quest.
Each diaphanous creature feeds on crimson land,
Grass on city streets—an effusive sight as we stand.
After the juice ran out, the town turned silent,
Silence, a somber speech—no swoon is violent.
Yet, something has splashed up on the beach,
A man who is still alive but too flabby to reach.
After millennia, a desultory one can fathom,
The chimera, an epiphany of root phantom.
Humanity perished—ephemeral rapt by the void,
Lambent nature likes a vacuum, such a devoid.
Earth purged, and no desuetude of amort era,
Ideal and dwarf beings graze on reddish terra.
Lawns on sidewalks are an emollient reminder,
A vibrant town, now conflate on a flow grinder.
Washed up ashore, just a transient figure,
In a post-man scene—an evanescent creature.
His arrival bestows a nostalgic gaze on the past,
A calyx relic from a world that couldn't last.
The town remains quiet—a haunting hush,
As nature reclaims what was once lush.
But a man on shore is a relic of our fate,
A transient being left to contemplate.
In a post-man script, beshrew a world once alive,
But now, it's just a memory, a fading strive.
The man on the beach, a symbol of our demise,
He gazes at the sky with weary eyes.
Apocalyptic distress engulfs us all,
As we witness the closing, the final fall.
But amidst the chaos, a sparkle of hope,
In the transient nature of humanity's scope.
Grass that grows on city streets is a resilient sign,
Cynosure nature prevails, even in mankind's decline.
Cities may be quiet, but echoes of our past remain,
Whispers of the wind and the rhythm of the rain.
Copyright ©
Sotto Poet
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