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A poem inspired by a dream. |
Fortress. Giant, looming over a black lawn like a bully over a victim Surreptitiously holds dark creatures, glares piercingly at foreigners Contains aliens—a false façade of human skin and features That stare without acknowledging; imprison without mercy Uniform beings, at a glance as diverse as mankind Yet their souls are homogeneous —aloof, detached, despising Messengers for an unknown monarch—that of evil, or death? Animals with skin, faces, breath, and plastic life That execute orders of murder, capture, and intimidation Awakening. From a paradise, enter this corruption, this monotonous horror Terror and nauseating fear replace blood, replace oxygen Through moist eyes, this fraud of life notices you Stand there, frightened, drilled into the ground with nails Aching as a result of this oppression that lasts only seconds Yet these moments may be as well be eternity Watch helplessly as you are charged by vile beings Escape. As you realize the peril, sprint along the black and bleeding carpet Down long corridors, onto a large balcony With jubilation, observe an oblivious relative, a familiar face! Steps lead to this known, and leap toward a last hope With astonishment, with dismay, relationships mean nothing here For all former loves, all former family has been converted Has been exchanged with a replica, a made up, brainless monster And it reports a trespasser, someone who still has a soul, a mind Rescue. Dashing away, with wide eyes, knowing you are followed Robotic beings calmly chase you— the scared deer running from the hunter Passage after passage, rotunda after rotunda, until there is only one path Clinging to this thin thread that saves humanity, you move along it With trepidation, with grinding heart-ache, with splitting sides A sharp curve, a turn, a square alcove harboring a child Small, not yet adolescent, shivering and weeping sorrowfully What harm can easing the mind of this youth do? Grab him, cradle him and he relaxes, gratefully Somehow this kind act gives you strength to continue Yet footsteps fall behind you—close, so close A cart lies a foot away, filled with useless objects, trash for these humorless things Dive into it, burry way down with the boy, hope to remain hidden Thuds come closer, and the aliens search the cart And- Silence, nothing. The scene resets itself and repeats. |