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
Copyright © Ronald Tirino | Year Posted 2016
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