Plains

This brutal northern desert land.
It’s easier to understand,

The growth of flaws and defects.
Bigger things and their effects.

In the vastness I’m amidst,
Fewer know that I exist.

The trivia of my attendance,
Imbues a sense of independence.

From the ownership of my fate.
To a more surrendered state.

And also to more consequence,
That I must hold with confidence.

Lest the predator become prey,
Without warning, without delay.

Here I’ll pay for all it brings,
With no command of anything.

It’s the reverse of whence I came.
Or perhaps it’s the same?

As I walk and as I see,
What it means to be more free.

It isn’t peaceful, it’s not secure.
It’s not something I’ll endure.

It will prevail and render me,
Deceased in whole or some degree.

Might the shell that falls away,
Transform fears to disarray.

The dis-ease let loose, undone.
Free to find another one.

Barren, yet so full of life.
A source of peace and untold strife.

The setting of another story.
This space is but an allegory.

One that strips and changes man,
With relics of where it began.