The Death of Yin and Yang

Collaborative Chinese water torture Dropping fickle whispers Their foreheads pound with belittled grief. Egyptian cotton tissues, Coated in fresh aloe and waxy resolutions, Torn asunder Idyllic sonatas Heaving identity crisis under bus, One Note Off An exacerbated syllable Pleasing vultures Who speak louder than anonymity’s slur Befuddled visions Damning clarity upon equator of serenity Stalking Information Superhighways, A glorified game of telephone Where declared verbiage, Set in Swedish Hot Stones, Is STILL misunderstood! Filtered! Tainted! Stoking ill-advised dreams Stroking tact with leavened paper cuts S h r e d d i n g yesterdays Whiplashes against horizons’ symphonies Choking lyric of March These hands showed you epiphany lights Now 2nd face, abandons restitution in onyx dark … With their one last cry, One Last Spoken Cry “Instead of reading our words, My child, You should simply open your eyes.” (Fade to white) ©Drake J. Eszes