PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The prevalent source of Heaven’s issued sun meant never gloom on the island scraped and swindled upon the predominantly desolate edge of their seemingly boundless world. To speak of dying trees meant to obstruct your spirit with the sin of crude and utter fabrication, for the trees on the Eastern Crest fathom only their intentions of the concession continuum, or natures divine schematic of ever habitual growth, conspired by flowers and greenery which share its twin typicality. The sponsorship of such amplitude is the domain of an archaic root etched beneath the soil which swim with the marrow of bone by the corroding flesh of a million soldiers who have died to protect this land. This is why organism on this terrain never breach commencement to the life of after.For the Eastern Crest... is sacred ground
To marvel, was the epic transition from night to day, welcomed to the animals which succeeded its resolve and envied by the creatures whom happened to stray from its borders. Sometimes the rain would splat the ground and when such was dwelling from the heavens, God made sure that every independent dribble was crafted and mastered to praise the esteem of natures infamous rubric of artistic brilliance. Sometimes the wind would never fail to rift along the prairies of the invincible, invisible atmosphere. Though this was barely to be considered wind but air swiftly transitioned between the rib cages of natures forbearer and exhaled back into the air with a ruthless rush, like to Dragon exertion. Strong and stout did their structure remain even after the angry gust struck the high bolted limbs, denying its effort to unfasten its tenacity to the earth. They were the tallest and most entertaining blossom of the Eastern Crest, old weathered and tired and yet still so immaculate, as they restricted the sun, their shadows reserving light as their own content, conscripting its creatures to travel through its shade from time to time.
Though the Landscapes marvelous beauty diverts the ignorant voyagers attention, it is the task to interpret proper perception of life within the Eastern Crest that will leave a wanderer bewildered. At peace may this Crest seem to the plebeian eye whom watches its beings commute from an incredible expansion but it is the Eagle’s eye which sees the war of prey and predator, the unnerving struggle of the hopeless beetle, itching to seek loose for he has gone immobile, stuck with a not ending stand in the sand.In the kingdom of wild there are no laws for combines of murder, death meant survival for the opposite being such so their counterpart can kill thee to survive and the same fate shall follow by means of their own demise. To be presumed were these concludes of nature but the thick of pink mist which coveted the day air was thick like the erosion of stink from a devoured body festered by three full armies of maggots. This pink vapor, produced and radiated,... evaporation from the circle of life.

To be continued