Micah Park Biffle

   Logan's Demons    Logan weeps as he watches it all burn. The smoke rising like death from a wintry rest. He cannot help but feel the world upon his chest. His eyes flooding beneath his feet, his hands wrapped upon his face like a mask.  But he cannot hide the misery that bellows from his sorrowed soul. He is alone, a solitude man with far fetched dreams. Reaching, falling, they slip through his fingers like light. Catching only the darkness that is left behind.  Even the birds that flutter about veer from his existence. They have abandoned all trees, all of natures touch. For Logan has breached the soils of earth with rotted roots. Piercing the once flourishing greens of his land.  But he is poisoned, poisoned by the ache of his heart. His eyes drivel with sorrow, sadness has sunk into his gut. Heavy be even the smallest breath. His flesh as pale as the dead, and like the dead, he feels no more.  He feels only the decay that has g...

A Surrendering Ship   My eyes fixed to the receding ocean in all its glory it sends the beaming sun away. Reflecting with a purity of golden orange. My skin, kissed by the fluttering winds as I sit at ebb of the waves. Casting each of my thoughts to the morning horizon.  Fleeting my heart becomes, destitution begins its journey from my heart, to my mind. I feel myself succumbing to emptiness. The forbidden fruit of surrender, surrounded by lush fields of green, as butterflies of pearl white flood the summer air.  I feel weak, like a rotting tree, collapsing to the bitter seasons of change. I grip the sand with both hands, squeezing with intensity. I lift my hands and look to them, the sand falling from my compressing grip.   Tumbling to where they started, where they came from. Never to move, unless forced by nature. I think, am I but these grains of sand? Moved only by the ever uncertain cosmos. I feel as if I am, for nothing seems to ha...