Sideshow

Faith edges in wearing only thin slippers.

Tyranny in combat boots arrives, boasting,

coveting the view from the cheap seats

where acrimony these days is rampant.

Roll of dice in winnerless contest,

prizes of heartache, sorrow and despair.

Failure not imagined yet, not concealed,

in plain sight not yet revealed.

Games of uncertainty, calamity,

players naked and tethered,

awake enough during small pauses in insomnia

to see the line waiting to carry that cross.

One was cut, the other bleeding

as life and death shook hands

to survey the distant coast of sanity

where paranoia thrives and vengeance lurks.

Progress with its permanent smirk

has condensed liberty to a sideshow.

Justice, asleep at the traffic light,

where broken stone tablets litter the scene.