WALLS WHICH WEAVE THE CAGE
this fragmented structure
this unfocused time
conflict and collapse
from internal strain
all things illusive
nothing concrete
we've no point of steering
nothing to guide
is anything real here,
is anything true?
we can not assay
its content or form
as everything touched
dissolves into mist
empty and mocking
hauntingly vague
what hasn't decay
undermined in this zone?
what hasn't been stained
by corruption's hand?
where is the pure,
where is the good
in these layers of filth,
repulsive and vile?
we ache to awake
from nightmarish days;
we yearn to return
to contexts of grace
where all is in flow
and functions with ease,
where everything synchs
and is not out of phase
an evil consumes
all things of this world
a blindness envelops
and befuddles sight
we find ourselves lost
in a maze built of lies
unable to blaze
a route of escape
- Brendan Tripp
03/14/2001
Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp