Ode to the Odessy

As the red sun settles into the bed of night
its lover moon catching only a glimpse
of him forever unrequited are they
the night birds start to stir
and bats hungrily greet
the dusk; I sit alone
talking to my
shadow
pondering
where the wonder
that once was has gone,
left me in a heap of ashes
from an angry volcano blowing
its top off, a living mountain mighty
in its power fed by the molten heart
of mother earth from which it gets all
its force like Atalatus, I lie down on the
earth asking her to give me back my strength
as the trail grows cold and memory becomes my
only link with all things past with which to face an
uncertain future poised between boredom and bankrupcy
working hard all our lives what have we to show for it, as soon
as we stop rowing the angry river will carry us right back to hell
into the eye of the Maelstrom, the black hole that seperates us
from our shell to feed our naked souls to the lesser gods
to releave their never ending hunger we are their
cattle raised to be butchered for their feasts
shall we follow Ulysses escape route from
the cave of the Cyclops by blinding him
and lashing ourselves to under the
bellies of his sheep as they
file out to pasture to feed
upon the emerald
green grass
of spring…
shall it
heal
us

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