Loving Seeds

Loving seeds they grew in greed.
As if the loving never quite existed
in the great divisions living in those
moving mortal minds. Without a soul,
the love they sought could not amend
itself into the real.

Selfishly, they hoarded things
that seemed to prove the in-between
was lost. Complicated masturbation.
Wires costing so much more than
all their weight in gold. Pleasure
freaks, too weak to delve inside
the many moods that drove them
to another high.

Popular, the power of the hours
they denied as time moved on.
Aging in great increments, they spent
it all on mindless falls into the flesh -
corroded by the chemicals that
only man had dared invent.
Soon or late, their counting went awry.

An emptiness began to dwell within
the chambers of their souls.
God was dead, and yet they still
would steal the very essence
of the grace he'd sent into their midst.
Too suddenly, the million moments
had been spent on make-believe.

The grief was bearing down too endlessly.
A mist of white enshrouded them.
The chemicals and gauze could not
conceal the putrescence. It wasn't
life - the leather that their deadened
skin became. And still, their deaths
remain the greatest mystery of all.

They'd never dared to look into the light.
Becoming it brought too much fright.
The fear remained, no matter
all their flights of valiant cowardice.
The Fisher King could not contain
the essence of their pain.

Their lady fair was hidden
in the fog misuse created.
Night on might, the indigo
was shadowed by a darker need,
the thrill of which they never
had abandoned. The will to power
shattered as the hours they created
ran on beyond the time they designated
within their cold and calculating minds.
Within a prefab scientific span of years
that they believed to be a mortal life.

Only to find, at just the last, that
their accounting wasn't found within
those calculated numbers after all.
While still, the sirens called to them
within a scent of everlasting wind.
Religion could not soothe their politics.
Spiritual - the path must still ascend.
Beyond the want, into the need.
Where loving seeds true continuity
back into their lives

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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