A world built on the bones of dead men,
their flesh rotting in the ground.
Secrets swept under the rug,
telltale signs erased.
A few glorious moments lifted up,
teaching children to aspire to,
but the man never be.

Corpses line the path to the cage gates,
while vultures circle overhead for fresh meat.
Choked with ash and smoke
the stenched breeze cries for change.

Somehwere between the moon and the rising sun
there is a city full of life.
Illuminated against the horizon,
but so far out of focus.
Transferring neon radiance to ultraviolet hues.

Welcome to the brave new world.
Sweep away the debris,
make of it what you will,
but it's what they want it to be.

10/07/2006

Posted on 10/07/2006
Copyright © 2025 Adrian Calhoun