In the Red Desert of the Rising Sun

In the red desert of the rising sun In the surrealness of its silence The sky turned grey and ominous Amidst the blackened rain As the suns fell into the morning sky Beneath the trembling ground In the deluge of blackened mass Monster rises from the tides Tsunami of the raging mind In the quiet before the storm Rumbling in the distance Darkness in its murky mass Converting shape shifting Shorelines into water world Of debris Dark surging water Encompasses all in its path Scenes of children playing Turned to terror of the day Warning bell in the distance People clinging to each other To higher ground they seek From the fishing villages with nets still in hand Near waters edge All that changed in a flash of day levied gates that could not hold crumble into the dust concrete skeletons of landmarks vanish into smoke reactors in the distance smoldering with the creaking steel sinks into the burning sea as clouds of smoke rise in the wind towers of babel fall in shock waves of its rage open tanks explode into vapor rising people casted in mud wounder aimlessly looking for the ones they love silence of the morning after dreams of Hiroshima invisible fallout of death where people live no more citizens of the concrete deserts echo ghosts of children within the history of its place warnings went unheeded without the logic of heart and mind of faustian bargains laid to rest on their future lives bureaucratic walls erected to silence those who spoke withholding information from those that need it most behind their smiling grins in the metropolis of its gollum's moloch's idols do their bids their machines of worship of non living things is their golden calf today readjusting through normalities of their routines the walking sleepers make their way metaphors morph Into urban landscapes From nightmares of the Unconscious serene skies of glittering moons within its shifting planes dream like exodus where boundaries of self melt without its center individuality fades into the stillness of its quiet memories of their generations wiped away with the tide ravaged by their fate community struggles with the will they bare lines of people on the shore holding candles to a stary sky tossing flowers to the sea where harps sing to liquid moon seasons breath fades away in the night to voices of the dead and ghosts laid to rest buddhas hand in whitened robes ceremonial rituals and rites begin to pass away their dead sandals and walking sticks in the wake of bones remained wandering spirits transmissions to another world to the place we all return to open skies blue as waves through the meadows of autumn lives flowers lie down to transparency of early winds souls set free amidst the clouds within the shadows of kurosawa's dreams prophecies for the living to return to ones beginnings and live life as its meant to be simplicity in harmony with natures way look within to rebuild again to live within thier means to put trust back to the land and live in balance once again