Bankrupt Inner Lives

Bankrupt Inner Lives by Odin Roark At night The vacuous feel only their emptiness Lining up in the dark Beside stanchions of velvet rope As condor sentries lift anchor-like hooks Time’s soulless theme park is open Clamorous the surge The decay of centuries past Swirl their biting dust storms Vying for another chance Surging through the dervish-like desperation A continued vacillate turnover of todays Crowding the ceremonial skin shedding Like a pit of serpents struggling to dislodge The torn Lifeless Parasitic past Trusting the new will provide survival As light breaks such a dawn The ravaged and bruised spineless Merge upon barren landscapes Raven guides screech welcoming echoes As undulating mirages of immortality Invade their delusions of control Lulling them into drug-like satisfaction Such continues the stratagem A parched enigma forever waiting Another group of self-deceivers Endlessly visiting their Inner life wasteland Clueless