| Gary Beck Lost Souls Perish our
tomorrows when sinned
against, or sinning, we sleep
fleeting days away. This sorriest
creation who whimpers
longings, squanders time, bloated
citizens couched and
dreamy, clots of
expectation in danger of
waiting until our
moment fades. Shock
Treatment Old poems of
love make us dream sweet moods, noble thoughts, but visions of
torment stir our fears, stab our hearts with lances of
pain that penetrate, break off,
fester, leaving us
deprived, spiritually
naked. Two Dirges I
Allurements We are born too
late for enchantments, demons never
seem to tempt us here, just crones
beckoning from embankments, mechanically
mumbling in their fear. II
Causality Long before
ethics and morality called for
universal equality, the lust for
power and basic greed were the main
motives of human need. ©2010 Gary Beck |
