Demise At The Well Poem by Fred Rik Kesner

'Demise of the Well'


It is a quiet execution, parsec by parsec.
The gravity that once held our bones to the deck
does not snap like a cable; it simply starves,

fading from a brilliant, crushing architecture
into the weak, extending centrifugal implosion

of unremembered tremor.

Out here, the well has finally dried—

and we watch, in the weightless dark,
as the very law that bound us to your centre
silently folds its hands and dies.






.