lukas sebastian plank

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Wasteland

Uproar and powerlessness,
Surges within the beholding one,
A sable spring,
Nests over the broken pate.

Since an eerie paunch,
Shifts through dumps of coarse noise,
Obtruding itself as it greets,
Grand and feverish.

And a bedraggled woman lies there,
Lurking, half-covered with dirt.
More casually, somebody,
brutely piles his dripping lust
Into the wilting lily womb.

Girls, youngest wives, raise
And so do their burgeoning breasts.
Something beauteous decays unseen.

A like-minded sibling appears, awaiting
I just gaze at the rugged ground
End-silently

O, how everything goes down a drain,
To a place where nothing ever thrives,
And no one ardently descries.

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