Not with a Bang

 
 
 
Stillness.
Light calmly shines
through bare-branch silhouettes.
Ice, frozen in time
sparkles, giving no reasons.
Still.  Cold.
Natural cycles.
Out on the battlefield of man,
brutal bleeding,
shattering of bones and dreams
too loud and crazed
to be heard
reverberating in shattered brains.
Once a molten planet
shot out of star stuff
creating plains and seas,
rocky terrain,
spinning so merrily
with no idea of sadness
set into motion.
Spiraling cycles.
In crystal stillness
frozen tears break and fall
slowly, silently, into time,
knowing not what we have wrought.
.
.
.
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