Mine

Empty: (adj.)
Adj.) - *In relation to the human state of being*
1)a half-assed description of the resignation and despair that has become so familiar these days; in reference to the identity to which I once related, prior to executing the most regrettable attempt at doing "The Right Thing" that I can personally claim;
2)the state of being hollowed out and desolate; withdrawn and recluse;

Set aside the temporary from the Elite, the ones who need to drink & who are weak;

as opposed to those who actually think.

Those with the ability to move your feet, to make you bleed,

to cast a beam across the darkness with a true meaning…

In Father Time’s marching succession, we all lose our sense direction

We all lose the protections – so taken for granted

We all suffer the other's rejections, non-recanted.

 

Just like an ever-spinning, revolving door -

The entrance to any exit you’ve taken before,

The world spins on, akin to this motion

No destruction, no corruption, no plastic island in the ocean.

And we move like magma from the earth to the sky –

Innately in need - - - don’t ask why…

Through the webs of woven time and space

Stationary – intricate: as the wrinkles in Father Time’s weathered face.

 

Look beyond what has already been created,

The Elite dwindle there on a clock, unabated.

Look behind! The many prospects overlooked –

Stuck to each other like the pages of a book.

We are Us down there among them, fading fast,

The waves turn and tumble with the weight of our mass;

Chaos consumes with the flash of a sky-diamond bolt,

Darkness – weakness, the blank page of results.

 

O! Wise One – O! Great One…

O! Whoever it is that reins high and supreme:

Please taste all my teardrops,

wake up terrified from my dreams;

please be so kind as to enlighten me

in the safety the old world mysteries.

I’ve served my time for heinous crimes…

Homesick for a home - elusive to me.

 

 

 

 

 

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed