It presses on,
sun's glare.
Thermal's rising.
All is linked.
Set in placed
of a chain reaction.
Occupied room,
containing whispers
to a place far away.
The souls freed,
set adrift
by a plague
of lethargic
that creep to them
totally unaware.
Closing their eyes,
the occupants
fell to sleep
in search of dreams.
All that brought you
while time degrades,
as bricks to monuments,
monuments to ruins,
dirt to mountains
mountains to a field
of desert sand perhaps.
It caresses,
leaving its signature
of traces unmarked
leading to people
viewing it
as a witness.
Even if it
leaves no mark
or continues
as the silent sentry.
We are still here
awaiting the strike of the close
and dismissing the day.
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