Nuclear Winter

I've obliterated so much that I had built upon
and as I kick around the ruins
I wonder what the point was
and regret that I am still around. 

An attack so cataclysmic,
a precision bomb
finding its target
as if it knew it. 

A nuclear winter sent and received. 
The dissolution hangs in the air like dust from fallen buildings. 

There's a plaque that sits quietly at the center of it all. 
It says, "There used to be something beautiful here."

It is small and covered in ashes.
The grime hides the only bright thing left. 

The quiet serenity that remains
gives no mention of the recent turmoil
but for the paper-thin echos that wont go away. 

A slow and painful end
brought to a quick finish finally.
But there will always be lingerings of what was.

Vestiges of blind happiness,
commemorated by a relic
beneath layers of what it is meant to remember. 

The big picture comes into focus
as I look away from my devastated creation.
Only more bleakness.
I fade back into the background.

Reviews

[JC]

I feel like I could have written this, I feel so connected to it, I think I am just going to start repeating myself reviewing your work because I relate to it, its familiar as vancouver...regret, a devastating cancer, perhaps just transition into what is coming next for you, when you get to that new plateau you will have left this great rendition behind of what was.