Hemlocked Heart

Is it worth it? To say what’s been recited before
With a tone of intellectual superiority and insite
The latest witch to conjure these simple thoughts
Perpetually repeating echoes from cuneiform tablets

I guess it’s never been new so it can never be old
Eroded by centuries of rainfall, the slithering earth folds
Changed only by weather, cliffs migrate to my awe
I can enchant in the same landscape ancients saw

Today, littered with beer bottles and plastic caps
The colorful vestige of a society longing for eternity
When we become ancients, will my journal survive,
Or will I be reduced to plastic trash cans and plates?

Just like those wise women who sang under moonlight
Danced with ocean waves, sought challenges for the fight
Reduced to the clay pots and grinding stones they used
I’ll fade into the few belongings able to withstand cosmic rot.