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Burned out dream

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  • Burned out dream

    BURNED OUT DREAM

    Lost people seeking refuge
    Friction of burned out memories
    Sound bites and subliminal
    Speechless spectators gathering
    Some fall, some fly in the sequins of dreams
    For so many years until now
    The very few that knew, cared

    Ongoing, endless, eternal campaign
    Lions and lambs March, nothing to gain
    Innocent seeds dropped, the virgin ground slain
    April sobs tears, purple on pink, blue in her pain
    Rain clouds and rainbows, same day will play
    Blossoms bare harvest but flowers fade away
    Fancy creation in a Mother’s day may

    Fool’s fields, gold, orange and black
    Staying put to be safe or just laying back
    Visions and stars in contemporary frame
    Amerigo forest, progress stakes claim
    Pale children cathedrals never get blame
    Children of color, the missions will tame
    The Ignorant see all the differences
    I see the differences are always the same

    Raging storms churn the night in and of
    Brothers and sisters huddle, company of love
    Praying for deliverance along with the dawn
    Reality of life is we have to live on
    Unimaginable image as seen from above
    Hope against hope, where is the branch?
    The leaf and the dove


    Remainder of summer after a blistering June
    Creeping through windows and doors
    Sixteen phases of one hungry moon
    Autumn holding hands with winter
    Sooner the better but betters not soon
    Who’s cold lips will be left whistling?
    A tower guard’s tune

    What will become of our last lap in history?
    All covered up, with fire, ash and mystery
    Shadows dogs rampant, eat the hard labor
    In love with the world, forsaking thy neighbor
    With the power of devils, angels and uncertain things
    No congregation to gather, no church choir sings
    We celebrate life and such when awake
    But while we’re asleep the thieves come and take
    To give not receive the treasure it brings
    From beginning to end, whatever path chosen
    While we’re alive, Death always stings

    RDS
    THE SECOND

  • #2
    Had an epic feel to it, and brought a smile to my face as I type; that bit about Spring really hit me, in a good way. I am really inspired! The title is like another frame, a lens or a window to look thru. Just thinking, isn't that the mystique, we could all see different things but it be cloaked like the same... from one 'poet's' inspiration to all the readers.
    Brought me to a cherished place, I won't soon forget. Peace.
    PS Ending is kinda abrupt, but fits!

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