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A definition of I as it is written in 10 pages; page 5

by Vere Mantratriad

when the flames die down
it stands to wonder if the
ashes are worth it as they
crumble to nothing like
they were never there
like this world, like a girl
too afraid to raise her hand

how long will a pane last
weeping below my window?
how long can you go too fast
before the world begins to slow?

it is indulgence that causes us
to take ourselves too seriously
and it’s a cold breeze that keeps us
from being buried under leaves

hard veins and soft eyes make for
treading carefully over fallen futures
where the vomit rises in the throats
of all who avoided similar stirs

if it is beyond belief, then still,
it lies before utter realization
and any sort of blink or sigh
is all that’s needed for reaction

and this is not the way to travel,
by bridge or by confusion but
higher planes leave no way to
nurture a life awaiting conclusion

a broken chain makes up for only
so much lost time longing to be
achieved through alienation
so rebel fast before you’re taken
directly straight to video without
applause, encore or curtain call
instead, straight to a personal hell

03/20/2009

Posted on 03/21/2009
Copyright © 2024 Vere Mantratriad

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Laura Doom on 03/22/09 at 08:26 PM

...and taking ourselves serially, we process each episode as if it were our first. All is not as it seems, though descent is seamless, and dissent indecent. Unlike yours, my chain has broken :)

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