late rune
a rusted motorbike in the sunny plains
It's getting sunlight and the grass is greener
But it stays stuck
Still it's better than it used to be
The rust grows, sure
But it's doing good don't worry about it's engine
At night the metal grows cold with no shelter
Overtime the parts start to fall off
The grass wrapping around the wheels
Pulling it deeper
But in the sunlight it's just seen as it's old form
It's not cool, working or clean anymore.
It's broken beyond repair
When will the mechanic come?
The metal obsessed engineer?
When will this facade end?
Last winter was a daze
Frost growing on the handles
The leather starting to peel.
The bike was finally breaking
Like a dart board
Used for the same game
The same old numbers
It gets old.. Repetitive.
What if the objects weren't stuck?
What if they could choose to break all the pieces down
Or stop the game entirely?
What if they chose to be angry?
Scaring children passing by with a rev of its engine
Or making the dart reflect right into the players foot?
They stay stuck.
An endless loop
Of a game
Draining the fun of playing
Until it stops entirely.
floral rapids
autumn goblet
slate kiln
green sun
robust pier