ECHOES OF DERISION
there is no traction
as though nothing's real
as though we had died
and this living nightmare
was a pit of hell,
a warped illusion
where we are damned
to humiliation, failure, pain
how many mocking fates
can befall one soul?
how many ventures
seem full of promise
only to wither, decay,
and turn to dust
leaving us with nothing
but echoes of derision
in darkness, hovering doom,
we find no way
to advance, to escape;
everything declines
into broken dreams,
corrupted visions,
with crushing hopelessness
and smothering despair
must we wait the grave
for some releasing,
a final emptiness,
an ultimate blank
to take away this anguish,
this self-loathing ache,
the shame of all our loss,
the dishonor of this life?
I see no bright tomorrows,
no fresh dawns
uncoupled from destruction;
there is too much poison
tainting these days,
too much hatred
within the fabric of being
to even hope
- Brendan Tripp
07/08/2006
Copyright © 2006 by Brendan Tripp
Such fun, yes? As Elphaba put it ... "What a world, what a world, what a ...."
