Blurs flying past me
Lost in their fruitless repetition.
Grass growing around me
Beaten tirelessly by the logician.
Ants fighting their way through the grass
Single minded with clear opposition.
Sand traveling down through the hour glass
Forced through its hostile expedition.
Monsters reaping havoc and destruction
Lamenting their own emission.
Ghost from times of past seduction
Showing the world how glory is found in superstition.
The sun shining in the eyes of the few
Driven down by the struggling into submission.
The academician hiding under a pew
Realization burning through his imposition.
The grass growing tall and thick
Asserting its god begotten authority over his slumped form.
The trees shooting up from his sick
Distributing emotions, inspiration and vision to those left behind.