The Shell

This is a poem I wrote when I was around fourteen years old, after having seen something that I found ridiculous. It is by far my oldest surviving poem, which still reveals itself to me.

This is a Shell upon the ground
From it the Silent Abyss
Thin and strong all around
Turtles hidden beneath it's mass

This Shell's rounds the Abyss surrounds
Beastly dominating the sand filled sides
The sides are waved aside
And sent falling from the ground

This is the Box within the Shell
No longer upon the same ground
This is the Box that corners around
The Box which the Shell shall never fill

The Box is cornered upon the ground
And from that point does not see
As before and after "in the beginning"
In the Abyss there is nothing found

The Box of edges, scratches, and hues
Each one new, yet full of dust
Eroding, unprotected from the Abyss
Breaking Tiberius' lust

Forms of universe come to this Box
When looking to it's brief future
To think it has the power above all
Man has not caught up with nature

Author's Note

Any and all thoughts welcome.

Reviews

[Shaun Payton]

"Man has not caught up with nature." What a fine statement this writing makes. I enjoyed it.

[Brian Conrad]

Thank you!

[Shaun Payton]

You are welcome!