From 4fe23d93c4f39b08f5bc4320af37ba109e618295 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Wolfgang Müller Date: Sun, 21 Jul 2019 21:09:36 +0200 Subject: Initial import --- posts/old-days.md | 73 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 1 file changed, 73 insertions(+) create mode 100644 posts/old-days.md (limited to 'posts/old-days.md') diff --git a/posts/old-days.md b/posts/old-days.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..41bcb7c --- /dev/null +++ b/posts/old-days.md @@ -0,0 +1,73 @@ +title: Old Days +date: 2016-06-03T02:44:44Z +author: Wolfgang Müller + +In the lowland of the taiga; +And vast forests boreal +Midst wapiti and wild reindeer, +Lynx, stoat, squirrel, snowshoe, brown bear, +Lives a hermit in remembrance +Of old days and the explosion. + +Green the firs, bicoloured birches +Waving proudly in light wind; +Poplars shedding crimson catkins. +And the hermit, longing, silent +Standing lonely on the brink +Of tundra, opens weary eyes and sees. + +Oak trees bending, whipping back; +Barks then tinged by hellish fire, +Songbirds in a sky of black. +The mushroom cloud, the ball of red: +People fleeing, hoping, dying, +To the church walls shadows burnt. + +In the seas the water boiling, +Blistering from the reflection +Of the short-lived man-made sun. +Uriel in heaven crying, +Mourning loss of the creation +That, in war, unmade itself. + +No more seasons, only winter; +Everlasting winter, with grey soot +Like snowflakes falling gently +Down to blackened soil; a Hell +on Earth, forever dead and frozen. +Upon mankind a shadow cast. + +So the hermit with his gas mask, +Breathing filters and asbestos +Makes his way, past sickly tree stumps, +Past the rotten flesh, past poison +Past the hollow shells of old +Through miasma to catharsis; + +Through the lowland of the taiga; +In vast graveyards boreal +Midst wapiti and dead reindeer, +Lynx, stoat, squirrel, snowshoe, brown bear, +Through miasma past the tombstones +Past the unmarked grave and carcass. + +Face turned west another fire, +Older still than the creation; +Shimmering subtly, orange, crimson +Through the clouds and casting rays +Upon the rolling hills afar, +Lights like ghostly sirens calling. + +And the harp, resurging music, +Calming shadows, living beings, +Forests, meadows, nature, beauty! +From that subtle light display +Made the hermit so resentful +And envious of death's embrace. + +Far away inside a bunker +Beneath the old charred earth forgotten +Lies dormant in a silo still +The array of rockets primed; +Awaiting silent, patient, stoic +An end, and the explosion. -- cgit v1.2.3-2-gb3c3