The Masters

We tried covering up.

We tried with colors and flavors;

dyes and scents.

And saying it was okay

and good

the worse that it got.

 

Our gilded spire soared high to the heavens:

tall and proud,

it grew out of sight,

out of mind,

out of all reasonable hope.

A sight we thought was the right way – 

It must have been –

We were sure.

 

But like a castle of sand

whose grainy walls are topped

with more sinking silt

that holds no roots,

no grass,

no hopes

or dreams of future greatness –

just blank melancholy

beneath baking suns

and carefree waves

that wash away what memories we make

and leave for the take.

 

Like great castles of sand,

it keeps slipping;

sliding from its greatest height

where the most hope is placed.

And yet we still try,

covering up doubts

with hope of what’s great.

 

For now:

Us masters of fate.


Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s