Engines sputter and stop
And the music grinds out of synch
Become more and more erratic
As it heats up with the friction
Of metal on metal.
The air is heavy with anticipation
And casts a shadow
Across our minds
As we labor in our own waste
Beleaguered and blind.
Let the damage go on
And cartwheel down the road
Throwing debris everywhere
And rusting in the corn.
If I could
I would go backwards
Just to observe
What I could not save.
Watching once more
In silent horror
The precious world
Long gone away.
Strolling down the sidewalk
By the bustling store fronts
Before they were abandoned
And ruined.
Holding on to every bit
And pleading with my eyes
As if will alone,
Could ever be enough
To stay and survive.
Listening first hand to the promises
Soft and reassuring
That nothing would change
And that everything,
Would be alright.
Too big to fail
But too good to last
The dreams that others built
Crumbling to dust.
But no man
Can ever go back
Even though we try
Beating on the glass
And shouting at nothing.
We can’t really help it
Because we all fear the unknown
Endlessly stretching out
Downward and dumb.
Today the stand has started
And soon the knives
Will come out
Just like always
A thousand times before.
But if we must fall
It is better to do it standing
Upright, dead level
And honorable.
There are higher things
And there are higher places
Invisible and immaterial,
But real nonetheless.
Deep down we remember
And that is more than enough
As we take up our swords
Determined and defiant.
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