Ascension - Archivist

The faintest transcendence

Shudders infinitesimal

The weightless consequence

In T minus five

Debris ignites upon

Quantum insurgence

The incendiary elegance

Of my brilliant white light

The buffeted plumage

Combustion enwraps me

And I quake as I stand

And hold myself close

The closeness surrounds

Cocooned in my comfort

Our bidding is done

Set free of this land

All is lost

Yet I Iive!

What’s left of the flotsam

Of what might have been

I am lifted aloft

On heated ablutions

The molten effulgence

Of a world we once owned

Our once beautiful manna

Blisters, erodes and hark!

The bold introduction

An unwilling demise

So sour is the silence

Of my closeted fate

The light breaks in patterns

With fingers I trace

I strain to make out

The striation of fractures

The tide now a violence

As the Earth falls away