Better Without? - By Actual Most Fallen

How can I say without saying - the silhouetted hills dark rolling and waving?
few winter trees there, like the head of a baby?
Or bare on the other hand balding and ageing?
And the forces of nature whither, degrading.
Shaded on the wrong side of earth, rotating.
The sun will come off the horizon, to hang thin light in our eyes, and
to be sure, will always return.
To display the bluffs in every angle of light through the day, then night
again in the end, once the red eye burns.
So the sky sleeps, the earth turns,
And the hills and the trees and the shade don't need naming.

It would be in poor taste to say it outright - but guess as you may, and some of you might.
The longest, most tired, and bitter a fight.
For example, the aeroplane careens through the sky:
screaming it's pained kerosene burning cry,
needs raging momentum to maintain its height.
With jaded neon eyes we would take it for granted, but the minute it slants, it
would surely drift, and lose its lift.
And we'd all be surprised as the miracle fades, in a satirical way,
I really relate. And will they be missed?
Then the show is done, the focus shifts,
and to the wind in the open sky, there is nothing so sacred about that flight.

So lastly I'll state, without spelling it out - so you might know what I'm rambling about.
That stained, torn old sofa that sits in your house:
How many times shit was spilled on that couch?
The permanent indent from lying about,
and the dust of the memories hangs like a cloud.
It just stays around because you're used to it there, but are you aware of
the mold underneath, the mites in the seams?
Maybe you view it with a mix of distain, and sentimental pain,
but I'd throw it away. It can't be redeemed.
Now the room is empty, and the space is free.
Do the couch and the plane and the day have their doubts - if the world is better with them, or without?