The Breakdown

Truth lies in what we hold; that which we will never see until the moment passes, and it is too late.

He has built cities
cities, which he subsequently burnt to the ground
one by one
offices crumble,
houses ash,
at the fault of his masterful hands
glass shards will pierce his skin,

sever his limbs

his city burns.

The last ember fades, 
and the first tear slides

from his weakened eyes 

he grins

and speaks

"I have witnessed life,
and harnessed hardship,

but I couldn't speak of beauty,

until I felt the breakdown"

He could have built a mountain,
but lived not

until he perished.

Reviews

[SwagMaster]

Great poem; loved it!

Please mark this constructive!

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

and perish he did, the tongue and cheek attitude towards the running words, leaves me the reader, elated! well done, good read.