the breath of desperate
grasping life lies, a fetid drunken beast,
heavy in the air all around her
a dull throbbing has begun
leveling her higher brain functions with wave after
wave of brutal insensitivity
her eyes ache
longing for something of worth on which to fasten themselves
but there is nothing
a blank space full of haunted people
chortling and prattling mindlessly
they are dead before they know it
their souls take leave
long before life's final breath departs

she knows before they do, of course
the clever hooded vacancy
fools the fools
but is painfully clear to the honed
the practiced
the unwillingly vigilant

she yearns to enfold them in her seasoned arms
the bodies, spiritless and cold, are forced into a horrid
charade every day
every hour, with no hope of escape
save the unmentionable

comfort a thing of life long past,
the only relief from a torturous existence
soothing touch of the skilled
snaking tendrils
of vitality writhe over empty shells
for an interminable moment,
a lifetime
the gaps are filled
complete and perfect,
what was missing is realized
and that knowledge resonates

after
the mind knows nothing
recalls nothing of the flawless instant
the tear in the exanimate blanket
it will do anything to retain its fragile image of the logic it senselessly
desires

© 2005, Antonia Balvanz