THIS WASTELAND, SO INSANE
the words only come
when squeezed,
when the madness
from those outer realms
impinges on us
and we can not evade
the press of points,
the sweep of planes
time and again
the nightmare settles
into my world,
an over-sized raptor
hungry for flesh
selectively tearing
at the non-mundane bits
leaving us shredded, savaged
we can not find
that middle place,
the zone of calm,
within this storm;
too long we've sought
to ride that eye
but now we know
it's time to flee
is there any sanctuary there,
out in that world?
it seems so engineered
to drive us down,
to take the beings
most like us
and leave them beaten, bloodied,
dumped in the wasteland
such darkness,
so deep the evil,
in a zone so blind,
so far asleep
that no light will waken
the unconscious mass;
we are lost here
so far away from home
- Brendan Tripp
05/09/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp
