The Zone
You have breached the zone; tell me where else can the children roam? You have planted landmines on every corner and you have disrupted the social order. I hear sirens going off in my dreams and it cause the children to wake up in the middle of the night and scream and late at night when I want to meditate, I hear loud banging on my gate, the zone is where I call home so tell me where else can the children roam?
The zone is where I was born, the zone is where I used to water the lawn, it sends all my children to school and it teach them the golden rule, it is where all my memories live and the zone is where my heart forgives.
And early in the morning before the break of dawn, I used to take a walk around the zone to appease my soul. There is a feeling that I will never forget and a sensation that crawls upon my chest at certain places in the zone.
And when the familiar taste springs up in my mouth it arose my appetite and cause my temperature to rise ; I break down and cry, and lament with the benevolent skies above me and the zone brings a sense of comfort to my soul and I suddenly feel at home.
The semblance of time and the spirit of the divine is embodied in the zone, and when you find yourself in the middle of nowhere, the zone will give you much to share. It is the place where old friends and new friends meet, it is the place that makes you feel complete; meet me at the zone and I will tell you what to do, meet me at the zone and your dreams will come through. They propose at the zone and they separate at the zone, they say that magic resides at the zone and destiny is the zone.
I cannot recognize this place anymore because they have broken down all the doors, the windows are falling out and there is a padlock for everything; look what you have done to the walls you have satanic writings on them thinking that it can take you to heaven.
There is no paradise up there and there is nothing to fear, heaven is death and it is mankind’s final appointment so makes your final assignment. You have painted the walls in demonic colors and you have diluted the paint with apoplectic rumor, the stained glass on the other side of the floor is a symbolic jester that they don’t want you here anymore.
You have taken the life out of everything and there is just no appetite to sing. The voices are old and rusty, the music sounds like an old pan rolling down the street with a rough exterior and a hardcore beat; the instrument are not tuned and the old rooster is watching you from the dilapidated roost. The zone is where the action is in the town.
The zone is on the other side of the town and you have to take what is left in it and separate it from the dish; everything is broken and it makes me real unhappy, you have got to take the multitude out of the zone and place them in another city where destiny is bound.
Let the work begin before it starts raining, the bullet holes in the walls are not in vain and ceiling are laden with pain; the building are burnt out and it cause the people to get angry and shout, dead bodies are still under the building paying for their revealed sins but no matter what they say the zone always make my day.
The only thing that is left on my block is a blooming cactus in a little pot, the clock is ticking; it’s still alive and it has given me some hope that someday the zone will come alive and the children will roam the street again.
Move the people to another place and let the work begin in the zone.
Copyright ©
Christine Phillips
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