Slipping Beneath A Velvet Rope

These are the days foretold
The days before we all get saved
And we are travelling down the old roads
The roads that the highways have now made obsolete
Singing those songs that will soon be forgotten
The dirges of the days foretold
We all get older and cannot help it
It is our burden and our right
But not like this
This is not how we imagined it
We always pictured something more noble
With deeds and gestures and myths
A battle, a journey or a fight
But like a God-given prophecy
We unfold with consistency
Boring our slow tunnels through the earth
Searching for the warm core
That seems, always, down one more foot
Around one more corner
Below one more stone
Worms. Moles. Blind diggers, all
These are not the days foretold!
This is a disaster!
Emergency!
Ring the bells, sound the alarm!
We are impostors, preposterous and exposed
Overfed and overdosed
Fat slugs trailing toxic slime
But it’s our time, it’s our time, it’s our time!
Please don’t turn the lights up
Please don’t turn the volume down
We whimper like prophets
Bleeding the inevitable from all-seeing eyes
As the bouncers kick our asses
From our own unfortunate lives

November 2010 Derek Wilson

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~ by delboywilson on November 23, 2010.

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