we've crawled over
these sprawling cliffs of ash;

built up palaces of tangled
bones and branches;

but even now, even these
venerated places have been stripped
of their gold and light.

not all suicides are lonely endeavors;

the mud and water macerates the walls
the ceilings are coming down
the floors

cave in.

and what of our future?
it was there
sparkling on the horizons
until it wasn’t.

just a fading twinkling for a decade or two
and then nothing, a saturnine glare;

an unknown and unwanted solution;

our weakened hearts palpitating
erratic and wild.

the sun’s full of bleach
raining down merciless light
through the wheezing atmosphere;

what are we now?
the unsaved,
almost forsaken;

forgotten in the reaching tendrils
suffocating in the newfound
unmitigated eclipse.