Marriage vows. The roles they
The difference between night and day.
Reality was never theirs to feel.
A sacred moment, just to be themselves.
Silence echoes down the weary halls
of fame and duty.
Frustration rising in an undulation.
Desire rising higher than the skies.
Overwhelmed, the channels and
the weaves of life are crumbling in them.
Drowning in the feelings they denied.
Sad and sweet, the lullabies have died.
Where once their hearts were
filled with love,
an empty silence echoes. The resonance
was lost so long ago. They watched
their children grow into a form of life
they never really knew. Blinded by
the flashes of the digital enactment
of the cameras and the clashes
they involved. The love bled out
from that, their wedding bed.
For all the things they never
and prayers left unspoken.
Clinging to a complex web of spent insanity.
The vanity had lost its thrill somehow.
While deep inside, they floated on a tide
of growing pain. Spasms of the aftermath
that felt like an attack. Choices never
really made by any one alone.
The heady feel of their beliefs
would never reach their hearts again.
Minds spinning in a mode they called reset.
Replaying all the tragedies they'd met.
Consistently abandoned by the feel
of their own soul. Intellect that never knew
the deeper meaning of experience.
Social play - the weary games
of controversial gain - seemed to be
the gist of what was left.
Oriented on the goals of gold.
So shiny but so cold.
Their histories had never told
the truth. Glaring facts.
The tabloids seeking yet another path.
Feelings covered over by their math.
Grand and eloquent, they spent
the best of who they were on things
that never really mattered.
Love children of another age,
where now the dreams of youth...?
Flower children withered into
bent and crumbled versions of
the beauty they once sought
of loving times. The worn out vibes
of younger times still haunted
all their memories and dreams.
Within a raging feel of altered
The dam was bursting into yet another
cloned tomorrow. The palsy of their
shaking hands, as all their terror - banned -
returned to them. Peace could not
be found within the void they'd
based their lives upon.
Rivers running into streams.
Seeking still the greater dreams
of loving life and living harmony.
The overt strength of undertow
was leading them back home.
Against their will. Beyond their minds.
To feel again, the love
they'd left behind...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .