the storm clouds gather,
rising on the distant horizon;
this new place, this other reality,
this far off land where nightfall never ends,
what is left? what more can be said?
does no one listen? does no one hear?
does the madness never end?
today I would have given you
everything,
yet nothing is all you took, tomorrow’s troubles
brings fresh sorrows all their own,
as freshly killed bodies float like chum
on the surface, being devoured by ravenous lizards
frantically joining in the morning frenzy;
I wish it were not so.
this life is no life, it changes
and rearranges,
ebbing and flowing, never coming to completion,
creations of a creator, children of light
trapped within the darkness,
temporary, transient and conciliatory,
blinded to the truth hidden before our eyes;
the great illusion we choose to
believe;
deceiving and being deceived,
wounding and being wounded,
hurting and being hurt,
feeding off the leftovers,
running for the scraps;
hiding within the cracks.
.
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