Neglected Vision
Black subliminal dust
Grieving for the dredged up gust
Covering hovering in surveillance
Reminiscing of the cradle essence
The stickman straggles past
Somewhat resembling a ship's mast
He's a tomb escapee
Will he be scrutinized maybe
Times' fragments have gone astray
And he's caught in the rapture of today
The tassel dangles like a invisible lynch
From the chimney of high folly
The dancing begins and starts to cringe
A high step down upon his fate
But it's already far too late
Time ticks up up his spine
Swallowing his sanity of mind
No brave knight can capture the clock
No evil being can start to stalk
What's come upon his head
Where he is being so slyly lead
Where is he going......
He closes his eyes just for a moment
Unveiling himself to his opponent
Copyright 1989 Angela Y. Rancourt