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Poem: Control

Control

Where words are spelled in hieroglyphs,
where faeries dance and wicked nymphs
sing silent hallelujah.

Where a misty breeze helps swing the swing
and bravest waves their presents bring,
such brilliant hallelujah.

But storm the surface, numb the sense,
break it down, breach the innocence:

Rumbling. Closer. Trumpets blow.
Cannons. Whistles. Gears in motion.
Slow now! Steady! Ready!
– for another show.

(I jump to your cue with
a premeditated maze of
complicated gazes.
A delicate plan. Calculated phases.)

Wheels turning, breaks burning,
weeks of planning in a moment lost.
Act two! Mind keeps churning,
possibilities are endless –
all of them I’m ready for.

Do you hear the devil’s marching song?
A fire furiously rages on.
Wagons pulled by horses
carry fifteen thousand torches –
lead you to oblivion.

Birds flutter, bunny hops, warmth gently kisses air.
No inner turmoil, no worry, care –
what an effortless hallelujah.