Venom

No, there is no time left.

Memories have been forgotten,

the cradle is empty and the illusion

would not evaporate

but stay as

rocks buried under the sand,

 breathing heavily, dreaming constantly

and devouring the early dew

so they could emerge as mountains

from nowhere.

If we had known our thoughts were to become

dust and frenzy

unshaped and angled

but mostly traitorous venom

without love.

So they would not rot,

 die or live.