-I hear the snapping of egg shells
in this dawn,
and we are great voices in its wake.

The coalescing figures present themselves
in a world of serene dialogue
casting upon oceans and fields of grain
harvested by aged hands with wrinkled edges.

-The neverafter is here with bells on
but our ears are still ringing
with joy.

Sirens penetrate our ear drums
as we see nonentities ahead of us
wishing why did we come here and
finally reaching the fabricated station up the road.

-Tomorrow's hands will wring the night
until it drips down the gullets of our enemies.
History is born here.

Creation builds upon destruction here
cold sweat falls from their faces
as a shadow cascades figures in the background.

-Now is the time for all good people
to come to the aid of their neighborhood
watch program. To stop at stop signs
and see that shadows gather around
no matter the height of the sun.

The burglars lurk in the distance
free from obscurity as they
lay their heads down in piles
of shredded families

They come in wild packs
disturbing everything around them
and continuing down a path of carnage

-And choirs wail into the spotlights
hanging from all the town's high-rises,
simple words of mourning and rage.

-These are the hours of vengeance.

I unravel the muslin from my body
as I limp across highways to find you.

-If you crest over the hill and look down,
you'll find that I have crushed myself
into the quiet brand of fire.

-Make a torch of me,
and we will show them the way
to end an era.

11/04/2011

Author's Note: This was fun.

Posted on 11/04/2011
Copyright © 2024 Meghan Helmich