The long haired man
Walks forth, dipping and bobbing
To his own rhythm.
Nobody sees it,
None understand the music.
There is only he.
So few can hear them;
Hammers ring a melody
Just for the landscape.
Sight is his alone,
Wandering through the forest
Of shattered mirrors.
-
Glassy fragments stand
Erect upon the stone ground
And fragment the clouds.
Their true form is seen
As the day makes way for night;
Beautiful from dawn,
The great illusion
Reveals the horrible truth
Of the dragon’s teeth.
As youthful light fades,
So fades the tolerance of
High expectations.
-
Sky, once blue, is red
With the spraying, foaming blood
From the mother’s veins.
Her children fall prey,
Their rotting corpses stacked high
And eaten hollow.
The man blames himself
For what he cannot control
Within the cosmos.
The final decay
Moves slowly and steadily
To begin anew.
