MARKS OF DESPERATION
things destroyed,
broken out of time,
all becomes the lie
and folds within that shadow;
we have no basis,
all is loss,
all is anguish,
all descending
these intents mean nothing,
we are too damaged
to act, to be;
we are supported
only by the mystic force
placed into motion
in distant zones,
long gone times
the world conspires
to block even this,
to disallow the journey
which takes us home
which gives us contact
with those who toil unseen;
all reach meets weakness,
result of all these wounds
as options dwindle
we seek to find
those few still open,
the doors unbarred,
the paths unmined,
to take the morrow
and make it worth
the pain of life
run through familiar circles,
we pass along the marks
made in desperation
when first ensnared
and wonder how the pattern
might realign
to cede us freedom
or grant us peace
- Brendan Tripp
08/27/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp