STRANDED BEYOND RESCUE
things incomplete
and unavailable,
we can not span
the abyss of the day;
so out of synch
with the mundane
we miss the cues
that are to others plain
lost, alone,
left with nothing,
we curse the race
so blind, so deep in sleep;
we ache to craft
some dire arising
that'd snap the world
out of its dream
all efforts made
still turn up empty
as though we sought
to break stone walls
with just our fists;
no screams are heard,
no motions seen,
no shaking stirs the mass
stranded beyond rescue,
we can barely recall
when we were at home;
where's that land
with others like us?
over which horizon
does it wait,
if any but for death?
nothing we do
has meaning here,
all our striving
drains away unheeded,
leaving no mark,
etching no trace;
our days are without purpose
our nights without release
- Brendan Tripp
07/09/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp
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