She's disenchanted because the machine won again,

recording all the static and erasing the memories.

If these wires, tangled and knotted, resemble veins,

we're worse off than I ever dreamed.  


And I'm still dreaming of things I thought I left behind.  

But they circle around and around,

They're nothing more than vultures waiting

For an overdue feast.  


We still carry hope.


This is not the end.

life and death blend into time.

joy and pain blend into love.

Everything is reborn,

it begins again when He says when.  


We still carry hope.

The End

5 comments about this work Feed