harsh hound
#2752
That which delineates us from all other life forms /
can easily be desecrated /
no matter how much a temple our body may be.
The test of time is the grandest scale /
of how worth and integrity are measured.
And yet, in spite of the flame glowing incessantly /
we are being taxed by our very nature to perish.
But the bones won’t be any less human.
They stand as history /
for the creature that once was.
Our defining attributes cannot be taken away /
only altered by forces that our sciences /
have yet to explain.
Once corrupted, one is not less than human /
just something else. Something /
with the frame and consciousness of man.
He is touched by something /
outside the light of orderly chaos.
The mundane is not fractured, just bent.
Fluctuating to accommodate the outliers in data.
I may not know exactly what pulls my strings.
What pulls from beyond /
my bounds of understanding.
But my humanity burns bright in spite of it.
My bones will tell my story /
if these words never reach the light of day.
My bones will tell my story /
when my place in the world fades away.
wild torrent