Moods

...And all at once, a muffled roar
lingered in the air...
Crisp precision emptiness
whispered loud and clear --
But what becomes of fairness
and the truest of the lies?
Indifference and solitude
seem only quaint and near;
Wisdom warns of weariness
and then merriment descends
With all the lonely lineage of
long lost lines in sand
Beneath the tainted surface of a man...
...And so it goes -- hand in hand
with the error of our ways.

Just bow your head
and breathe a sigh
Of well deserved relief --
-- for in the clearing up ahead
You'll find your wicked thief:
the Unsuspecting Criminal,
All flowery and keen
beneath a pink umbrella
With a mallet and a scythe.
Don't you see eye to eye?

© Copyright 2004 Jason J. Loya