apocalyppppssssesesesesesesesesesssessss?

a soul squeezed through the
last distant pinpricks of
itinerant suns; fleeing
dusky shapes and barren landscapes.
crystalline, oiled up slick machines
spinning scythe mowing a lawn long gone,
carving canyons in molten earth.
invert and revert to
shivering folds in bleach white sheets
of paper wings riding the wind
encouraging
living threads searching the underground
green yearning to taste the sky.
-yzy