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Author: Tara Lee Sgambellone
Contact: ShadowMaze@aol.com
Profile: I write because I must.
I rush to get in line, somewhere. Time stops, then crawls...briefly, long enough to cease.. With wings outstretched, it flies.
I slow my hamster hustle, on the wheel that moves the hands, as the other hamsters speed the pace, running while they can.
The wheel keeps going round and round, I strain to get ahead, and just as I may steal the lead, game over, signal red.
Prognosis bleak, behind, ahead, more runners in the race, found dead. No mortal wounds, to prove they bled.
Off the wheel to either side, evidence of noble tries. fatal failures, memories spilled,of all who died, of all who killed.
Sea soaked sand, to quickly dries,Suns cleansing rays, delete the lies.
What urgent rush, meets drifting breeze, Who whispers tales of freedoms seas.
Where running skills have never been required.
Another round is scheduled here, Each second, hour, minute, day, of weeks and months, that passed away.
To stop and see, at last, I'm here, It took not one, but 20 years..........
Where running Skills have never been required.
-=-ShadowMaze-=-
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