Shifting sands across the roads of time caught under the wheels
as the factories and the low set hills roll on at the side.
Ruts in the road filled with settling waters from those passerbys
and the flash springs off the reflection of those to arrive.
Industry moves like the clouds in the sky to leave and then return
burning the midnight oil and what the daylight left behind.
Removing the veneer of good grace with truth's mask removed
by leaving a trail smeared dark of those who have denied.
Washed away in the storms and leaving only the memory of pain
to run down the slopes as the rain moving toward the sea.
Only to be halted at the gates to be awakened by salt rubbed deep
with the freshness of first breath as realization opens an eye.
Run and run and run from what is chasing from in the darkness
as a mind pictures all the horrors of what it could become.
Moving away from what is not wanted with nowhere to go in front
and the line goes dead and the receiver leaves a cold tone.
Alone in the silence surrounded only by the clouds of hurt thought
and searching for a place to survive where flow can escape.
No respite from the gathered but no matter for the end is at the start
delivered by bending the knee and looking up to see the self.
Taraz
[ a Steem original ]
