Bankrupt Inner Lives
by Odin Roark

At night
The vacuous feel only their emptiness
Lining up in the dark
Beside stanchions of velvet rope
As condor sentries lift anchor-like hooks

Time’s soulless theme park is open

Clamorous the surge

The decay of centuries past
Swirl their biting dust storms
Vying for another chance
Surging through the dervish-like desperation
A continued vacillate turnover of todays
Crowding the ceremonial skin shedding
Like a pit of serpents struggling to dislodge
The torn
Lifeless
Parasitic past
Trusting the new will provide survival

As light breaks such a dawn

The ravaged and bruised spineless
Merge upon barren landscapes
Raven guides screech welcoming echoes
As undulating mirages of immortality
Invade their delusions of control
Lulling them into drug-like satisfaction

Such continues the stratagem
A parched enigma forever waiting
Another group of self-deceivers
Endlessly visiting their
Inner life wasteland

Clueless