Hushed

The World has a modern man --
Her bleak walls choke his imagination
False filters drain him of life
The youth withers;
His candle fading breath by breath.

The modern man had a dream.
In which the Nature --
The name so gloriously mysterious --
In all Her full richness possessed him.
In vain he yearned to commune with Her.

But
His camera captured so little of that
E'er-widening cerulean blue
His still lens confined the sky which
Screamed out for infinitude true

So
He battled Nature;
Just a bit, too futile.
He battled man;
Labored in vain, not enough gain

Sicker by day
He drank Reason --
Processed rationales;
Artificial transcendence --
And indulged phony art --
Products of Universities;
The ugliest vacuoles of Society.

Today --
He frames his own coffin.
At the end of the day
Breathing in finality

The forgotten,
The bitter,
The only,
Taste of
Death.