Threadbare

A creeping vine, a tangled rope
A turn of fate, unraveling hope
Minds are spinning like a top
Eternal twisting, make it stop

 
A circus ride inside these ones
With sturdy legs and broken lungs
With downcast eyes and heads low-hung
Hands trembling for the final rung
To see the light and never reach it?
To breach the cause and ever fear it?
“A shame,” they say, while yet surrounded
By the very truth they still confounded
Illusions light up a darkened cave
Shadows slow-dance, fables they gave
To one another as gifts of love
Tokens descending not from above
Sincerity silhouettes a shallow time
Gently coaxing the neatly primed
For a time such as this, and an hour such as now
For an inbred hate that makes the heart turn sour
For the closest of souls to take the knife to the back
The covenant stone now shattered and cracked

 
A seeping wine, a mangled rose
A poisoned age, coming now to close
We shrouded in blindness fell from our throne 
That mythical construct we once called our home

 

 

 

 

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