MERE TWITCHINGS
1
nightmare cages,
lost events,
we are faced with struggles
well beyond our strength,
assigned these trials
designed so that we'd fail,
and set to endless tasks
focused only on our death
2
nothing works here,
all systems falter;
we can not set
foundation blocks
unknowing what alignment
each dawn presents,
unclear on how the laws
of reality might change
3
what place is this
so unsteady,
so unsure?
we can not strive,
we can not drift,
we can not settle;
all options are evil,
all outcomes vile
4
locked lower
into this decline,
we chart the marks
of our decay,
the scars and damage
of too many years
in ceaseless battle
with the mundane
5
darkness hovers,
oblivion looms,
nothing offers
any hope;
all our acts
grow weaker, vaguer,
more pointless,
mere twitchings of a corpse
- Brendan Tripp
02/22/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp