Dreary moon, must you look down upon me so coldly? Your ever presence
follow with contempt barely disguised. This lowly form bowed before you, looks for grace in
the heaven’s too high. Forgiveness is what I need, yet: do I deserve? I have done nothing to
earn such a virtue. Will the Fate’s caress sallow cheeks and grant clemency? In mind’s
eye, I see the ground is viscous. Meadows sweet fragrance, fill me with the comfort to stop
my beating heart. I ran with hasty terror from duty, family, protect; protect whom? I will kill,
kill, kill and eat those dead burnt bodies. No! Tell me, mere reflection of sun’s fire, you must
understand my miserable countenance. Nocturnal nostalgia, take me back to solar eclipse,
when my world fell like leaves and I was conscripted. Bold prints and shaking palms, it
overestimates.
Whims and lilting children’s song filters through my life like the changing seasons. A
note so sweet should have gave warning to the devil’s chord hiding on records aberrational
motion. Encompassed in familial indifference and placed upon a critical pedestal, I took
seditious solace in Big Boys’ delicious aroma and symphony of life and laughter. A feast of
thanks has barren joys as they pontificate their rank given by my objectionable favor. War’s
insatiable hunger for selfless sacrifice, cruelty, blood, and death sickens. It conjures up
The Essay on Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep? Rachael Rosen Killed The Goat
... he loved her. Now, she knew that he could possibly killed her. She doesn’t want to end her life where Rick, ... retiring the rest of the androids and her was to kill his beloved goat. His goat, the thing that he loved ... head, everything was about “ I need to kill this goat! I need to kill this goat! So he will stop!” She went ...
gunpowder, aerial bombs and keening screams. To serve and protect thy country is a
worthy endeavor. Protest thy station for fear hath settled in thy limbs. Wars music is the
beginning notes of my Funeral March. O ye of little faith: why do you doubt? What other
choices do I have?
On chilly nights, contemplation of evading vacant nemesis consumes. Sanity is
merely an entity in trenches too deep to reach. Garnered approval of appraisal places this
body in a livid lake. In the Law’s unnatural order, I would give away free will and call it
otherwise. Am I strong enough to do so? Is my body and mind healthy enough? Drown me
in my sorrow for the answer is glaring. ‘You can get anything from Alice’s Restaurant’ we’d
both sing. Please, place this form away from shame’s path for I do not wish to lie. Must I
cringe from disapproving eyes? Collapse under puppeteer’s skillful pressures? Shadows
grant me passage for I wish to hide within as slumber overtakes pretentious pretenders.
The moon was an absent light as the border between foreboding fright and reticent
refuge gave way to deep-rooted regret. Seasons changed and in this land of foreign tongue,
opportunities to repent were missed. Tracks on dusty roads have been overshadowed by
time and to return comes with a fixed price. Gloomy Sunday’s black coach calls: will you
heed it? On this dreadful night the faces of the accusers appear. Weighted guilt alleviated
by confrontation is mused. Will I ever see past the cracks in the mirror? Thoughts of the
Vietnam War will never allow for peaceful slumber. When will it ever end? A seven year’s
curse conjures clouds to cloak the response, leaving me alone with my thoughts, for only
the moon knows.
