Into the Looking Glass
Is this the end
Are we never to live again
Has grace lost its eternal quest
Should I just wander in the desert
Beyond the pulse of the glass screen
A life serene
No longer scrolled, scolded or stolen
Far from all extremes, or remain
Where love is lost
Where summer has no innocence
Where I am but binary currency
Floating on a metaphoric moat
Groped
Dreamt of only by the new kings of my own assault
A wretch, mock worthy peasant of the realm.
Should I relinquish my soul to the cloud
Catch frostbite
Become a terror of bytes
Like a shark freelance in a pauper’s wading pool
Odious, perfunctory in my funk
In my quest to a brave new world
Float in my moat, belly up
Performing backstroke
Braver than ever, ignorant in my bliss
Like perhaps I belong on a boat
A dreamer of Endeavours
And of nightmares where drenched souls are cast asunder
Power grabbed — pretenders of an invisible democratic state
First Mates of mighty moat.
Have I been loyal to my new masters
Am I moat-worthy
Or does the cruel fate of the desert beckon
Beyond the pulse of the glass screen
Have I become a rebel
When I could have been a has-been, fear not
Perhaps it’s just one more look it shall take,
That I need, into the looking glass.
