Ash Lynn

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The Best Poem Of Ash Lynn

Offing Ontics

On a faraway island of pastures and rainfall
With tree speckled mountains and rivers and all
The air with it's winds,
Over many a hill,
Could carry distilled any scent that could waft

Here, on a small citied hill, a young lass gazed
At the peaks and the stars, entranced and amazed
After having a moment
She made her first movement
Toward besting the height she'd previously lazed

10,000 feet of rock reaching high
Bordering seas and clouding the sky
Tempted most travelers,
Mappers and amblers
To find a good spot to spend time

With ample provisions and a warm, bulky coat
She began her long march about the east coast
The day was still young
The clouds were well wrung
And a gentle breeze blew it's familiar tone

Several an hour at this point had passed
And the auspicious weather had made fairly fast
A steep, bushy entrance
A smooth incline thence
And a path alongside a shallow crevasse

It was at this point on the climb
That a drifting savor opined
Of charcoal and sulfur
With a cedar-like mucor
And enraptured the rover mid stride

Highly intrigued by most things unique
Ash, the main character, pondered the reek
Though her goal vectored right
To the left was the blight
And windward she turned, up the next closest peak

The path to the mystique was arduous
Mostly rock wall, the detours were tortuous
Although she was tired
Her mind was still wired
And at last reached a clearing only half as tumultuous

The precious level ground gave Ash some respite
And after taking a breather, she held in her sight
A most peculiar tree
Hued darker than ebony
With a claw for it's branches, the tips piercing upright

Standing as tall as a person on shoulders
Though wider than a fairly large boulder
It housed on it's arms
With a red, pulsing charm
Many long and thin veins, lit like coals without smolder

After enjoying the view for a minute
She hiked up further toward it
Upon nearing the plant
She saw in it's grasp
A mound of veined bark, though mainly uncharacteristic

Walking up close to it quickly revealed
That the lump was a person, their poise limp and fetal
With skin calloused thick
Along every ridge
And darkened to shades common in Sheol

She stepped back in shock, eyes widened with horror
While noting that this is what caused the strange odor
She reached out her hand
But snatched it right back
When a cold pierced the digits inside the claw's border

The body, in response, could actually move
It curled up a bit more, and spoke only to soothe
"You're wasting your time,
I'm content where I lie."
As he violently shivered, his skin venting the fume

Surprised this was solace, she considered his side
"Is the cold not a bother? You're not having fun, I surmise."
His greyed eyes met hers
"Any malaise can be cured
If a person would think for just once in their life."

Considering the aura, she pondered the worth
Of the supposed advantage in being one with the earth
"What's in it for you
To stay here and muse?
From my point of view, you're being had for dessert."

The youth breathed a sigh as deep as a well
"If you saw yourself clearly, you could easily tell
That all of you folk
Hallucinate yokes,
Along with your joys, sadness, and existence as well

In this very spot I am free of your woes
I've honed my intelligence, likely the most
Since a life on this trunk
Into which I am sunk
Is more stable and sure than anything known."

The vessels across him effulged slightly more
As Ash grew concerned by the tone that he bore
Since his firmness betrayed
The fact he had made
Many ventures of thought round the senses' contour

She knew that, of course, she was here in the now
What bothered her, though, was his skill to somehow
Live life with the thought
That he's simply not
And continue to ponder without clues to pull round

Like the quietest whirlpool of prideful despair
His frame became still, minus his lungs bagging air
She now wondered why
He'd not rather die
Than rot in a stasis with no feeling or care

"What keeps you breathing, if all you will know
Is more ways to bear with your heart beating slow? "
"I already said
I'm far more ahead
Than anyone smart, there is naught I don't know

Experiencing time as an unending quarrel
Helps me to reason a theory more forceful
To send away pests
Like you and the rest
Of the oblivious rubes that value their morals."

Offended that caring was made to look crude
Ash felt some comfort in seeing him lose
A large of flake of skin
Peeled off by the wind
"Well, enjoy your fake scrying, I've got things to do."

The withering sac let the wind's howl retort
As Ash turned away, still piqued by his sort
On regaining her pace
She felt her heart race
And knew then for sure she out-vantaged that corpse

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