Saturday, June 3, 2017

A Cult of the Ordinary


























the dark night does approach,
silence fills the unending void,
there are consequences
for careless words spoken in haste,
there are prices to be paid
for miscommunications
and mistaken identities,
we have crossed unknown
lines and barriers,
without any thought
for tomorrow,
settling for pennies on the dollar,
creating monuments of our
own misgivings,
putting eternal wheels in motion
which cannot be undone,
winning victories,
but in the end
losing the war,
the last breath
waits feverishly
on the wings
of majestic crows,
black and sleek,
seeking refuge among
the lost and forsaken
rubble which
congregates just outside
these prison walls,
waiting for no one,
seeking nothing;
nothing at all;
they never see past the veil,
this charade,
this hideously pathetic impression,
for most it is
business as usual,
part of the routine;
a cult of the ordinary.
.

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