Down To The Depths Of Oblivion.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

the consequences are coming
like a horde of wolves,

there are no wolves, just a thought
of the horde of wolves,

the mind is a trickling rain, tricky
creating a horde of wolves were
there are none, just because it is
suffering the pain of the dessert
the moonless nights, the day of a
thousand suns, the coldest air, the
crazy whiteness of snow in the minds
of the lonely people without the
comfort of tents and dripping water.

it will not last, the end is inevitable.
the black horse has arrived without a rider.

the deep well has dried. Dreams of water
come, and sights of mountain goats grazing
on salt.

what we think we become. I think of you to
become you.I lose myself in the water, flowing

to the forgetting ocean, where i am no more
other than a ripple, whirling, down to the depths
of oblivion.