A Whirlwind

Subtle distinctions,
alive in the fashion they chose.
A whirlwind of devils' dust, imagined,
had become a glowing rose.
Spending even as the noose was tightening
round their neckw. Minute, the specks
of evil gathering in swells of sound
that came from their machines.
Controlled, the voices that created strife.
Unbound by deities that gave them life.

Long forgotten myths were living deep within
the mists they called their minds.
Recorded travesty that they once thought
they could click off of, was invading
the dimensions of their dreams.
The waking up became a great extreme.
Nodding off a scheme that never seemed
to work within the trance created by
too many lazy minds.

Reading only book reviews.
Believing hues of light and sonic sounds.
Beaten in the earth they named Ground Zero.
So much like their balance sheets
that led them to another bottom line.
Clinging to the black while red wine
stained the ladders climbed.
A bloody chalice that they called sublime.
Making sure they crossed their tee's and
dotted all their little eyes with pie.

The American dream is a lie.
Houses, cars - a spouse, two kids.
All learning to despise security.
Killed within a thrill of family.
Fighting for a better station
as their nation spawns another war.
Old European values hiding
in the spin of lawyer's claiming
laws that tame religion.

The other side of given truth
prevails as rebellious youth -
inhaling deep, they tried to let it go -
the love that beat their hearts and
lived their souls. Lost somehow,
in long ago equations made by
those who claimed to hold that
great control.

A whirlwind is rising
on each point of their horizons.
Seeking still,
the essence of the whole...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .