04-04-2014, 06:58 PM
The Bee
I sat Imbibing flames atop
A mountain road at night
And caught a buzzing radio hum
That told of tragic blight.
I drove towards wastelands high
And heard apocalypse
Was near and we would cease to be
Because the bugs were hit
By smoke that billowed out our machines.
My caravan grumbled low
Beneath my feet . Encased in steel
I sat a cinder glowing
Off my final fires that ate
The air of night. “The bee”
I thought, “ is not a second coming.
After A comes B.”
I sat Imbibing flames atop
A mountain road at night
And caught a buzzing radio hum
That told of tragic blight.
I drove towards wastelands high
And heard apocalypse
Was near and we would cease to be
Because the bugs were hit
By smoke that billowed out our machines.
My caravan grumbled low
Beneath my feet . Encased in steel
I sat a cinder glowing
Off my final fires that ate
The air of night. “The bee”
I thought, “ is not a second coming.
After A comes B.”