The Aposteriori Exodus

Hope once held,
like baited breath,
and dying just like passing so.

Tears of torrents
rained across that land
tainted by fields of darkness,
weeds tightening their territory
and eternity leaving to the past,
gone, lost, now ‘til last.

And then! There was a light
that shined through the deepest blackness.
Colour has eradicted the shadows
and now there is Hope.

But the weeds tighten.
They do not want to pass.
It is not until the last,
that we all see,
as the land is scorched
by searing light,
that the only way to keep the land
is to leave it be.

The good times spent here,
were never good times at all.
Just fading memories
and reminisces which pale
compared to the Light.

The land passes by
and eternity begins again.
Time is washed away
and it finally makes sense.

If you know where to look, you can find the original draft of this poem (which has been called many different names at different times) on my other blog, 'McKay's Missives'.

Matt K, 2005.