Way of Life

A way of life, reality.
Binding only what we see.
Wondering just why we feel so sad.
It hits us at the oddest times.

The music, and the beat, the rhyme -
reminding us of all that used to be.
The dreaming and the fantasy.
Those moments when the dreaming
all came true.

A scent, a sound, will steal around
the tautness of our will. And suddenly,
it all unwinds again. For the loving
never goes away at all. It stayed,
while all we were began to fall.

Down into the silent spaces,
in a shadow's spell. Alter-image
changing as the bindings start to grow.
A web, a net, superfluous - and yet
it keeps the feelings all at bay.

Remembering, he turned away.
He couldn't stand the view.
Mind-numbing cold, and still
the snow won't come. While
all the peace of loving days
lies in the shadow's maze.

A way of life, reality.
Binding only what we see.
Wondering just why we feel so sad.
It hits us at the oddest times.

The music, and the beat, the rhyme -
reminding us of all that used to be.
The dreaming and the fantasy.
Those moments when the dreaming
all came true.

He never knew just what to do
and so he chose the modern view.
He closed his heart and let his life
run on. Holding the reins, he was
out of control. The misery inside
went on and on.

The Southern climbs were hot
and dry, his skin a clammy cold.
He only ever wanted to go home...

? Michaelette ?

12/7/2002
Copyright© 2002 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .