My shoulder blades have been rubbed red
and raw, ripped to tatters and shreds
by the jagged, jaded boulder abandoned
upon me. My buckled knees
quiver copiously above my swelling, stumbling feet
as I trudge my way along
this barren, wasted bit of celestial pathway
stretching eons among stars and galaxies,
each planet, each dreadful, desolate orb drifting
dolefully tangent to my trail
is more dreadful, more desolate, more doleful,
more useless and wasted than the last.
Escape from fate is a folly thought,
a dreary dream damned unatainable,
destined for the garbage barge
awaiting this humble hellish burden
at the terrible, toothy mouth of this heavenly highway.
I am doomed to know the destiny
of this jagged rock,
of it's inescapable, in extremis condition.
And the gravity is so, is so extreme.