Storm troopers
dressed in black
knocked on my door
and pressed on
the attack..
I cowered beneath
the sheets..
holding my breath
praying that death
would stay clear
And to assuage
my fear..I drew
forth all I knew
Of cunning and
instinct and all
the learning
And slowly slipped
I..like a thief
in the night..
and escape was
possible and I
was running with
the night..running
from the sythe
of impentrable lies..
Drew upon the
assumption..
That what I see
and what I hear
is the truth..
Better to fake
or pretend..
is so easier
to blend and or
mix and so tend
another decidely
version of mixed-up
perversion of
reality's illusion
set free to live
a lie in turn
the lesson learned
steady streams
of consciousness
all have a watershed
a birth,a turning point
floodwalls if you will..
back to the beginning
front to back..
flow to the sea
rivers of thought
the crown of creation
that spark of life..
