When did I
See the landscape
Bristle with entropy
Filled, cold and bleak
Under crimson skies
That shuddered in fear?
I saw something there
Then it was gone
And no one remembered
Because it was “wrong”
To think back on the past
That even time forgot.
Bitter streams draw near
With floods overhead
Mocking the sound
Of the fountain that bleeds.
We go with narry a sigh
And narry a gasp.
So when did I
Make a contribution
To ease the suffering
Of his substitution
Instead of just mocking
That which saves
When did I
Care
Or even regret
This cold blast of air
That put him there
Under my own thumb?
