Poem By David Lacey
Sensation penetration, a diversion at the best of times,
At worst a crime of violent colours, as shadows feed,
As shades parade, breeding upon the insomnia of the sun.
Hoping as they prayed his time was done, yet here he comes
As they run faceless through the void, traceless in their dreams.
The dogs are calling out your name, rabid wild and roaming
As storm clouds gather over head, a sky once mild is foaming.
Intangible tears come falling, rolling down the cheek of the girl,
The girl who was never there to keep your knees from growing weak
At the prospect of an eternity without care, without caress,
Without fingers to run soft smooth rhythms through your hair.
Do you perceive a life with the stone, in recognition of its growth?
Could you receive a love born of a soul outcast? Alone dreaming
Of servitude to a higher cause, always awaiting, never grown,
At least not by the standards of man in his infinite wisdom.
Could you tell me when the cycle begun to turn the loom of fate un-spun,
All we are it seems, unique, freakish in origin, running a race never to be won
For no restrictions have been set, no rules have been laid to forget
Sometimes as we wonder in regret we ask, Why are we running at all?