5/18/2014

Deconstructed

There comes a time,
despite our unwillingness
to believe it, when blood

loses its value.

When strings tacked
tightly to the control bar
snap, recoil and down

falls the marionette

in a soul-less heap
like a boneless creature
or discarded skin.

The mind remembers
some things for some
time, how things

were whole

but the spirit, always
blind in this world
rushes formless

into another.

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