Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Steam

Steam rises as the heat of reality

Pushes hard against what we know is real

Cavalcading down the mountainside

Revoking what in the past was considered a privilege

Yet now we know that a blind eye

Watches and thwarts the perfect peace

That encircles the diorama of life on the outside

Casting curses and shadows like never before.

And the weak bow their heads as sheep do

Walking in circles and rehearsing their lines

Because they only know how to sing

And whatever cause they dream of following

Breaks into a million pieces scattered o’er the landscape

Siphoning energy from those who have no hope.

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