I was ancient once by Aaron Michaeli flip my hands
empty, and wanting,
making them fly
because I've nothing better.
Yet, I was ancient once,
a relic from Nazareth,
or a leaf in the hanging garden,
floating and falling
before being preserved.
planted, dying
and ignored between the stones
before becoming
current
and standard.
now I am a leaf amongst leaves.
yet I was ancient, once.
II.
I turn my pain in passing deflection,
Not wishing it to stay any longer than it must,
But it rusts and clusters and
Breaks rules to stay in power.
Like a dictator once dethroned
It latches to any purchase
Destroys any purpose I one relied on
Within a hour of arrival.
Ancient is another word for
Too long in disrepair for fear of change.
The pieces used to fix
Instead destroy the original
Leaving this muddled mix of old and new
Firing at each other because they
Know no better
And say no letters that can seep through
To the parts that need attention.
There are no hanging gardens here.
No longer a wonder,
Merely an object gathering dust
Before blending with the modern
In hopes of finding Eden.
I was a colossus in Rhodesian lore,
Left to battle ants, unworthy of my attention,
Almost not worthy of mention,
Until broken down for scrap and
Constructing something worthy of the gardens
Once again. 12/10/2015 Author's Note: Version II. Extended Edition.
Posted on 12/10/2015 Copyright © 2024 Aaron Michael
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