PAPER ON WINDS
1
caught within chaos,
stuck in this storm,
we have no means to shift
the context or frame,
we have no way to steer
to pass by the blast,
no route to safety,
no path to clear
2
lost amid loss,
cast down into depths,
no focus remains
nor shred of intent;
we are paper on winds,
flotsam on waves,
tossed and scattered,
unable to be
3
where we reach
in zones of blindness
can not be told
until events
collapse the query
for good or ill
turning the wheel
left to our fate
4
damned to this failure
of systems, of dreams,
no place to resume
what we would so need
to extract from days
and wring out of night,
no way to recover
the essence we've lost
5
broken down, damaged
nothing remains
to mend or to heal;
aligning with law
all falls to decay,
growing greyer and vaguer,
sadder and bitter,
swimming in bile
- Brendan Tripp
09/17/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp