Unfathomed

A darkness gathered in their prism of light.
The love still unfathomed by any delight.
They'd lost the heart and soul of all that mattered.
The sacred had scattered. The demons were pleased.
Another, once lover, was forced to their knees.
There wasn't any freedom after all.

Lost in the system, they wandered alone.
Seeking still, the gist, the feel of heart within a home.
Discovering the emptiness that fame and glory held.
The greatest of illusions was dispelled.
All the empty spaces came to nil.

Their flimsy paper numbers were all going up in flames.
To them, the good and bad now seemed the same.
All the lies they told had really only been a game.
Meaning lost - the cost, too wild to tame.
Beauty fell into the darkness named,
where it was changed, for good or ill,
into another image named in condemnation.

None of it was working, after all.
The children suffered, buried under
intellect that only knew of politics and power.
The hours of their lives would keep on ticking
all the worth of love away. Their endless quest
for youth had faded. Jaded by their cold, uncaring
scientific minds. While there, just out of sight,
their children grew up all alone.

A desperate tone was ringing through the air.
It spoke of loss of love and deep despair.
Ominous, the deep, dark powers grew.
Twisted, warped - to fit into the rules.
Yet even then, their minds were shattering.
Focus lost, the cost too great to pay.

Sequestered, all the wisdom that the old
and wise might bring. Tied down to a bed,
the nursing homes seemed more a dungeon
where their lonely souls were lost in dreams
of might have been.

Why did they never stop and think...?
It might have all been love...

? Michaelette ?

7/2/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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