Worship

You can always sit proud

upon your hard-built monument

of jagged lines and hope

Belief? What have we here?

The self, the spirit, the hoax

The rough and tumble that appears

in battle, on a bloody field of expectant turf

Carved in sand, crumbled and solid

Taking a piece of the earth home

Valued, values, valuing nothing

Such a decorative pleasure

to trample underfoot

Idols and heroes 

I can give you all

A shining, ever-changing 

billion dollar screen

Filling in all those little, white gaps

left in haste and ambition

Blur the lines

No time, no boundaries here

Slumbering dragons do not lie

nor stay and beg when you ask

Polite though it may seem

The bite is harsh and unexpected

A new view every second

Instead of the static, eroding scenery

of time lost, bored and stagnant

behind a polaroid mask.

~ Copyright Charlotte Sometimes aka SRWB 2010