(shades of gray continues)


What is it to be human if you can't see you're in prison?
I have studied all of it for a thousand
years.
Their nature never changes and their
visions are all the same.
I wonder how many among you
still feel scared, and still are full of life.
Which among you has defeated your
battle with emptiness.
Reaching, excitingly chasing the
eternal prison of death's hands.
You are self-made prisoners whose marks on this world are nothing
more then shades of gray dying in the
desert sands.




Poem © 2000 Eamon Productions, all rights reserved
 appears here by permission

The illustration, "Sky," created by and © K.L.Storer, all rights reserved.