Butterflies and candle flames
Choose your image of pain,
Broken hearts and shattered glass
All one and the same.

Reality a cubist sketch
Joined along the seams,
A philosophy on nothing
That lies in what it means.

Simplicity on tenterhooks
Edge is now for glory,
A dusty book hides the page
On which written is this story.

A nodding head, a rhythmic beat
Ignoring nature’s pleading,
A step in time to time’s own mind
Destruction’s hand thus leading.

Blind eye turned toward the sun
Earth’s heart now thumps on empty,
Hollow cheeked and brittle-boned
Gorged on the lie of plenty.

Sleep now, dream of night,
Protected from all thought,
Here then lies all things damned
Hope’s death the final cost.

Thursday, September 28, 2000

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