[Dream Gate] [Poet Glas]

Armageddon Stroll

We walk through the ruins
Of the apocalyptic tableaux.
Neither goat nor sheep,
We do not know
If either lover has room in
Their heaven or hell
For our friendship.

Darkling God and Fallen Proud
Walk hand in hand,
A lovers' spat
Patched up
At the cost of a world.
Will either now need
Our consolation?

Will the two begin anew
With a Genesis of promise,
Or will pride prove stronger
Than hope and love?
We cannot know
For we are discarded friends now
At home in outer darkness.

Age old story of discarded tools -
Tales of love rarely speak
Of the walking wounded
Left by the wayside
Of Love's quarrel,
Friends and seconds offered up
As Cupid's sacrifice.

Perhaps we will see atonement,
Renewed again
In the regard of the reborn couple.
Rarely though
is the wound in the side
Healed without scar
Or painful knowing.

copyright 4 July 2000
by Earle B. 'Glas' Durboraw; Birmingham.

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