Constant Flux
by Michael Romani

Poetry finds its way to breach distance
As two hearts meld into one romance
This life is for the living
Though often harsh and unforgiving
Still, it is only death that makes life immortal
As though our awareness is but a portal

To the frontlines, the dreamers go
In the passing of tides, in ebb and flow
Where metaphors and similes feel envy
And only in dying to all do we become free
It's often a viscous circle fighting for survival
Falling back while hoping for our revival

Run from the guillotine to save your head
But if you live in fear, you're already dead
It's the yin and yang of contradiction
In a constant flux of interdiction
Originality sits in its empty chair
Where we searched for truth and got nowhere

English flows into a language of mass destruction
In its mangled ways and confused construction
Too often used in an obliteration of meaning
Never quite reflecting the hearts of human beings
The smiling man's tears fall in their abstraction
Fighting against the desire for his own obliteration

(c) January 12, 2018  Michael Romani
All Rights Reserved

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