Whether the storm

Alone in the frigid cold, the stars her only guide, while consternation constellations in every direction, threaten to hasten the end

Whether the storm of tempests rage against the sky, the shifting plates fault the land, the rising oceans swallow the continents piece by piece

Or while ravaged by the fire from an untamed sun, her soot steps across time growing ever blacker, the heat haze on the horizon heralds a hellscape

Or plagues of rat and man fester and boil, infect and decimate, slaughting the innocent and guilty alike, without remorse or recompense

Or humankind devours itself and all around it, through violence and greed, bones of war atop bones of history, nuclear winters of madmen

Still she carries on; her journey incomplete, dragging humanity into destiny, hurtling through the emptiness, our steadfast custodian of life

art: (untitled) by Zdzisław Beksiński


Published by a.d.matthias

no w here

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