The Witness

After everyone was gone, I just traveled around from place to place to watch
the change,
At first it looked like it would
happen pretty fast,
In only a few years many of the roads and highways were covered with grass and
weeds,
After about fifteen or twenty years you could hardly tell where most of the
roads had been,
Those same roads that used to go somewhere; anywhere; everywhere,
In the suburbs all the manicured lawns were now the wildest jungles,
The houses all still stood in good shape; empty reminders of countless scenes
of private life,
Despair; fear; violence; hope; love; joy; a world framed in walls,
After about a hundred years these worlds were the jungle’s pedestal;
as quite as loneliness,
In the cities; the creatures vain monuments to prosperity,
The jungle underneath was just starting to push off the weight of the concrete,
And in a manner completely void of malice or pretension; weave its way into the
work,
Vines wrapped around
skyscrapers; wildflowers and grasses take the place of once congested avenues,
After several hundred years surprisingly most of the cities were still standing,
Though they were covered in foliage in such a way,
That if one were just seeing them now for the first time they may think that
they grew organically,
After a few thousand years there was hardly any sign at all that the creatures
had lived here once, The cities had all crumbled underneath the weight of the
jungle,
The same jungle that these egos in stone had once crushed and held at bay,
Here and there were conglomerations of unimpressive ruins,
Ruins that could offer no clues to what had been engulfed in the lining of the
womb,
After several thousand years the whole of the little planet was once again
pristine,
It was beautiful; an absolutely aching beauty.