You always knew it would happen again:
the ruby beams, the silhouettes, the whispered code,
and then…that muffled crunch, that stifled cough,
that soft and cryptic knock. That latch that wasn’t fastened
on that door that wouldn’t lock.
They’ll get you, they’ll find you.
Be ready, be sure. They know where you are,
where you’ll be, exactly where you were.
What did you feel when your mind was removed.
Was it hard, sharp and painful, or satiny smooth.
Were you clued from the start, did you know in your heart
that they kept you intact when they tore you apart.
Does your lurching awareness obsess on your doom,
do those tiptoeing whispers leave prints in your room.
Keep moving, keep hiding, till death brings the end.
They’re right around the corner, they’re just around the bend.
Go leap out the window, go sprint through the trees,
burn the leaves in your journal and bury your keys.
Haunt the alleys and rails as you sneak town to town,
one eye on your back, one eye on the ground.
Did you ramble or rave when they rewrote your brain.
Were you God in a beaker, a file, or insane.
Are you trolling for snags in the patterns they weave;
is a single thing real in the world you perceive.
They’re coming, keep running, leave satchel and soul behind.
They’re searching through your blackest dreams, escorted by the blind.
They’re watching from the shadows, their burning eyes aligned.
They’re waiting in the dark around the corner of your mind.
- Author: Ron Sanders ( Offline)
- Published: November 17th, 2023 14:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.