embattled
masses
somnambulists
foaming at
the mouth
rabid
hallucinating
incurable
and a blurry
figure a
mad scientist
next to his
invention
stainless
steel
automated
animosity as
the thick black
smoke of war
begins to
obscure the
scene a few
yearn to
awaken some
dance the
sacred
kookamunga
some say
the save-me
prayer a scant
few ascend
translucent
eye-ball
shaped the
color of the
sky at sunrise
-
Author:
Vipassana (
Offline) - Published: January 28th, 2026 01:42
- Comment from author about the poem: we are living at a deeply troubling time
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
Offline)
Comments1
Obscure in metaphor this poem runs on time that is low in the tank. Nicely done
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