More of the Noise

Then there was this. We thought it could be an answer, but it wasn't. We thought it could be some new route through the noise to a place of quiet, understanding and contemplation, but it wasn't.

It was just more of the unanswered, more of the noise.

We thought about silence, but silence was not an option. There were things that needed to be said, even when no-one was listening… especially when no-one was listening, even when it became yet more futile howling at an indifferent moon.

We thought we could chase the creatures back to their homes in the dark places and shifting shadows. Instead, we found it was just another empty space where nothing crept and nothing crawled, just the lonely wind, looking for a home.

We thought we could run up the sun-dappled hillsides and see as far as horizons and see as far as our dreams would allow. But that too was just another bare landscape stretching out before us, too far away even to touch with outstretched hands.

So we look around these ruins and these fragments to see what remains of what we once wanted to build; our new great city out here on these plains. We find only half-completed buildings falling into dusty ruins, and plans all ripped and torn, blowing on that same lonely wind, and we wonder if any of it was really worth it.