There it goes, tumbling end over end.
The stone makes it's way down the mountainside,
Onwards, onwards, in to the great divide,
Onwards, onwards, through fate's merry bends.
There it goes, tumbling, lonely and grey,
Plummeting downwards down in to the dark,
Onwards, onwards, in a descending arch,
Onwards, onwards, from the light of the day.
There it goes, tumbling in to the sea,
Carries on deeper down in the abyss,
Onwards, onwards, where the sun won't be missed,
Onwards, onwards, where there's nothing to see.
There it goes, tumbling, coming to rest,
So far from the world down here in the black.
Lonely, lonely, wanting so to go back,
Lonely, lonely, at the end of it's quest.
Posted for One Shot Wednesday on http://www.onestoppoetry.com
Poor rock!
ReplyDeletei imagine the rock is not alone as it believes...at least not in the quest...
ReplyDelete...true there are more rocks and stones on their way.
ReplyDeleteLove how you used the stone as a metaphor...well, I took the stone as meaning something else. Something we can all relate too.
ReplyDeleteYou are not the only one that was late. I was very late this week.
poor rock! I like the fall, of something that see as something we build on. It's sad...it completes it's momentum. You want it to find a dip at the end like a ski-jump! Good poem.
ReplyDelete