I dreamt the bellicose stars fought fiery battles throughout the night,
until angry grey storm clouds congregated
and hid behind the darkness of a stone moon
beckoning sweetly to snipers on gingerbread rooftops.
The world has gone mad
and I know I have lost my way;
no longer a child,
my leaden pen penetrates the misleading silence,
as rusted hearts and footprints collide with the thunder,
and the tinman has deserted Oz.
I awaken
bathed in the crescendo of morning’s light
flecking my coffee
opening my eyes
dusting off cobwebs
in desperate search
of a mythical yellow brick road
that will ultimately save my life
in a world gone mad…
© Connie Song 2021. All Rights Reserved.
