The Fall of Rome

I’m living through

the fall of Rome.

I’m witnessing

the breaking of home.

Factions revolt,

beat the war drum.

I’m living through

the fall of Rome.

Did the ancients know

the end was nigh

when torches blazed

and leaders sighed?

Were they all unfazed?

Yet I think not-

the sounds of war

caught them off guard,

the Vandals cry

they heard as they died.

As bickering

the Forum filled,

anger, revenge

divisive killed first

the spark of hope,

eternal strength;

arrogance crept,

hatred slithered.

Long ere invasion,

Rome had fallen

to decadence,

lustful living,

a lost innocence.

Choices were made,

egos were stroked,

the seeds were sown

for destruction.

I see it today.

I’m living through

the fall of Rome.

I’m witnessing

the breaking of home.

Factions revolt,

call the war cries.

I’m living through

the fall of Rome.

Politicians lie,

corruptions deep,

hatreds deeper.

The price is steep,

that our blood will pay

in division,

turmoil and pain,

we move to death

as one nation,

our soul has been raped.

We lock our doors,

barricade our minds,

chanting mantras

like our good luck charms.

We’re torn apart-

torn limb by limb.

We’re all rebels,

fighting ourselves.

Searching for something,

but just for us-

drowning in noise,

suffocating

to the ring of phones.

We lost ourselves-

no, we didn’t,

we SOLD ourselves-

for peace of mind

never delivered.

We’re crumbling down,

breaking apart,

rubble fallen.

We need unity.

We need saving.

We need freedom.

We need to live.

We need to serve.

Solidarity

us a mere dream.

Guided by self,

by lone interests.

What’s in the future?

Who picks us up,

and cleans us off?

Who restores us?

Who supports us?

Returns legacies?

Tear down that wall,

open borders,

help the wounded,

the sick and alone.

Love God, nation,

family, friends.

Lift with strong arms

us from our shame.

The future’s not set.

Our legacy,

our history

are locked in time.

We claim to move on,

but continue

to live like this.

We don’t have to.

We can learn, now,

how to move forward.

My burdened heart

is reaching out

to the victim,

to the survivor,

the fatherless,

the downtrodden.

I pray we won’t

see the ending.

Today, forever-

Will children play

where widows weep?

Will hope abound,

and forget sorrows?

We pen this tale,

every detail

unchangeable

as we go on.

I am so afraid.

We’re living through

the fall of Rome.

We’re witnessing

the breaking of home.

Factions revolt,

play the war songs.

We’re living through

the fall of Rome.

Battle Wounds

No matter how much time,

nor how much healing,

I still feel the scars,

like it was yesterday they were opened

by your hands.

Aren’t you proud of your work?

Don’t you admire the lacerations?

Some days I feel them more,

some days it’s like they’re not there.

Some days I carry the weight of the world,

some days I’m light and free.

Some days I think about you,

some days you haunt me.

My soul is restless, my body sore.

There’s only so much I can take,

and I wonder about you,

why you do this.

Do you like the pain?

Does it make you feel better,

to see me like this?

Does it make you feel big,

to make me so small?

I cared for you,

and you cut me.

I cared for you,

and you destroyed me.

I cared for you,

I cared for you!

Why don’t you see that?

What’s blinded you to that?

Who’s whispering in your ear?

I surrender.

I give up.

I can’t do this.

I’m not fighting.

I’m done.

Why don’t you see, the war’s over,

like there was a war to start with.

Here I stand in the end with my battle wounds.

~5-29-2013~