Moods

Tired, tired world...
Jaded, faded, sickly sound
Of lonely voices in a crowd--
The halls of possibility
Crowded with profanity
And jealousy deliberately
Feeds on our disguise.

Tired, tired world...
Mired by the whirl
Of nonchalant misgivings
And contaminated pride
As overdosed necessity
Bleeds our hearts until we're dry
And stoic substitution
Sterilizes passion,
Gently carving out what was inside.

Tired, tired world...
Independent meaning
In an isolated mind--
Room for warmth and wonder
Narrowed to a slice
Proportionate to desire
Or a sparkle in the eye
And lost on empty windows
And limited by sight,
Frivolous assumptions,
And complicated lies...

Waive our own humanity
And sever the ties that bind
And hide inside ourselves
And create our own outside,
Exclusively inclusive
Of whatever we don't deny--
Self contained societies
With artificial skies
Locked away in solitude,
Drifting silently through time--
Secure in our fragility,
Convinced of our virility
In a tired, tired world
As everything passes by...

Good night.

©Copyright 2008 Jason J. Loya

A New Space
Digital Photo
©Copyright 2008 Jason Loya

System
Ink and Pencil on Paper
©Copyright 2008 Jason Loya