City of Lost Angels


 They perch on the malleable architecture

of abducted dreams, agreeably dying, as

their faded wings tremoured against

colossal winds and unconquerable odds.

In great trepidation, they watch the phantoms of

intractable yesterdays populate

the world of what-might-have-been’s and

weep incessantly for their deliberate silence

that has now grown deeper, deep enough

to castigate their tarnished souls with

an inexplicable dark magic, but not yet

deep enough to wake them from their

own personal nightmares. They fear

to realize what they have come to realize,

and they shall never admit that fear.

They have forgotten how to choose

for themselves in their violent attempts to

choose for others. They have unlearned

their abilities to look for answers within.

Over the inane centuries of

misplaced passions and self-generated

righteousness—all properly

cleansed, modified and justified—the

Lost Angels know not who they are,

who they had once been, or who they

will become, for the Lost Angles know

just one thing and one thing only

and that is what they think they want.

 

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4 comments

  1. solo27 · August 26, 2011

    I enjoy the poem. I could see your vision. 🙂

  2. Nomadjackalope · August 24, 2011

    That was captivating. It made me quite curious and I really liked it. Good job 🙂

  3. bunnythewabbit · August 24, 2011

    Interesting thoughts…

  4. slpmartin · August 24, 2011

    Really enjoyed this poem..very structure and beautiful flow…bravo!

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