Sunday, September 5, 2010

85. Procession

The destruction has only begun.
Moments in ruins,
movements of solution.
Subjective and suggestive.
Predictable and quantifiable.
"I count disasters on my free hands now"
With no end in sight,
still "searching for the light."
Your reflection is only what you make it out to be.
"It seems like I've been here before."
Stalking houses,
talking is far too crowded.
Locked in,
shut down.
Safe in the shell.

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