The Farce

As the great play ended
Without meeting expectations
The anticipation was a let down
Emotions ran flat
The narrator stood one last time
Making a final summary of events
The confession he gave wasn't shocking
Nor was it any relief
For those who had given the production everything
It was simply an acknowledgement
Of something quite obvious
And it ended without resolution
Intended to leave an audience in suspense
But they quickly became disinterested
And forgot the whole thing
As their lives played out
On a greater stage
Above the costumed farce

Tilting

Tilting, moaning, and left to crumble
The iron structure is held up
Only by its patina and shape
Dissolving like a rusty solution
Into the waters below
Saved by rogues vines
Hampered by nesting feral
And abandoned eggs
It stares toward the sand and rocks
The salt and the sea
Waiting to be carried away
To the other side 

Cascades

The shadows bear a familiar scent
Moving across the highest points
A floral bouquet, a hot kitchen,
a hint of perspiration
Traveling to a cascading absence
of sound and memory
The audience lies still, unmoving
Unrelenting until the eyes close
And the dark images dissolve
Upon plaster and rock

The Millstones

I watched a man caught between a pair of millstones
Struggling to breathe as they slowly crushed him
Pressing his internal organs to their limits
Fragmenting his living skeleton into many pieces
And yet, he survived, persevered, and even seemed to enjoy
Defying death, tempting death, taunting the millstones
Until a sharp piece of bone broke through the barrier
Of the man's skin, his seemingly impenetrable armor
Was too thin and too delicate to defend against bone and stone
No longer laughing, he fainted at the sight of his own blood
Undone by an inside forced out
As the millstones red dominance, center upon irrelevant laborers

The Answer

She cannot see the blood that spills within
Nor can she see what bleeds without
Hollow greetings, rhetorical questions
"Are you OK?"
An absent expression on the pale, reflecting face
Should be answer enough
"You seem like you are somewhere else"
Posed as a question, set as a trap
But in reality, it is nothing but hope for reassurance
A delicate balance for a person pressed from both sides
Caught between two worlds
Simultaneously torn and pressed