A New Dark Age
Rubble in the shadows

We slowly descend through, to the abyss of our own making, never knowing it was our choice.
We have disfigured our own souls, silently pretending we do not hear their cries, their voice.
What do we fear, is it our death that overwhelms us, conspires to blind us, and covers us in this veil?
Why do we stare, spectators and gawkers, chatting it up, as our coffee cups rattle, spill, and stain?
Were we ever safe, or forever doomed, sitting in our little rooms in concrete houses on borrowed plots of fields?
Is this such a game of unrestrained destruction, missing its instructions, so that every move depends on how we feel?
The illusion must break, the people fall away, their sustenance spent in meaningless offense, leaving rubble in its place.
The fields lie fallow in this yellowing season, our collective fever broken, our inheritance stolen, lies in the shadows of a new dark age.
Thank you for taking the time to read! I deeply appreciate your support. Copyright © 2026, Robert G. Metivier. All Rights Reserved.
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Amazingly vivid and striking! One of your very best. thanks!