Impressions forced into the shields they held.
Covered over. Seeing only blurs of high speed
fantasies go by. Infinitely, running on and on.
Disrupted by a sound of great immersion.
Unbound by yet another great collision.
Wincing in the pain of realism.
They held it all so close, it held them too.
Small pleadings of a pain that would rain out
and then rush back to them again.

White static blossomed in their erstwhile nights.
A full moon looking down on all the strife.
They tried to dream it all so far away.
But night came stealing back into their days.
In hours where confusion reigned complete.
When automatons cluttered all the streets.
They couldn't see an other, for their shields
covered over everything...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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