Digital Relics

Rushing in to find things hidden in the dust

digital relics left behind to waste away

to rust in the rain coming through a broken ceiling

even as their voices speak in monotones

repetitious stories of a long lost origin

under a different sky than these tattered clouds above

Soft was the light that kissed the beginning

and so dark the shadows that shroud this end

following the leader on a march down to silence

and soft wonder at these new hands

caressing faces worn by time and dust

whispering a promised end to shadow

and a caravan to carry them out into the rain

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What kind of music do you listen to when you’re writing? If you listen to any at all, that is!

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Photo by Tina Rataj-Berard on Unsplash

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