"The Fence"

"The Fence"

Turned off the lights
just to be certain.
Swiftly cocked my weapon
before parting the curtains.
Deafening these halls
where the stagnant scream.
Now silent after violence,
I've locked away my dreams.
The front door too heavy to hold.
Fortified dead bolts form fit the mold.
The slip latch rusts away in its groove.
Every key fits; but it refuses to move.

Dewdrops darker when the moon hides.
Whips wrap around hips. The eclipse.
The shroud cast upon iniquity.
Chilly showers rinse all divinity
as if it were mass produced.
Potential suitors have called a truce:
The stern tone that we hear
serves as a throne for their fear.
Crystal clear vision through my window.
Portrait of the consummate widow:
A bitter figure with no means
amid a dark and gloomy scene.

I have seen what lies ahead:
The streets a sea of blinding red
bred of lies that we were fed.
The fortunate are lying dead
while we toil with circumstance.
Against the fence they've danced;
prancing around what they covet.
I observe them hanging from it.
Above it the voulchers hover.
Their wings blanket the sky.
Even the brightest stars are covered.
The loosely dangling are soon smothered.

Some say they failed to realize
that they should look to the skies;
but some of them were wise.
They would not gouge their eyes.
Not willingly, at least.
I am never at peace;
but I'm certainly somewhat settled.
I've no desire to test my mettle.
Medals from my proud days
collect dust while tucked away.
Threw out the display case
the day it slammed against her face.

She used to be we.
She was never me;
but who would ever want to be?
Especially not now. I've often wondered,
how could one succumb
to the point where minds are numb
like the body it encapsulates?
How they would captivate her senseless.
Since less time spent at home,
I've found myself here alone
until the days stopped shining bright;
giving way to the darkest nights.

Walked for miles in my confusion
amid woeful destitution.
Institutions we once treasured
are now havens for ill pleasures.
Vile pollution in each camp,
prostitution running rampant,
and the youth I thought were trapped
are the ones who've proudly stamped it.
I can't find her anywhere.
Then her silhouette once fair
was riddled with sores once bare.
Leaking from them are her cares.

I observed her on her knees.
Fists full of her hair he squeezed.
He oscillates his head in splendor.
she assumes her role as lender.
Splinters stab her from the skies.
Rinsed his remnants from her eyes.
Couldn't even start to cry.
Wiped her chin then we locked eyes.
No remorse as recompense.
None of it made any sense.
They walked away; leaving me tense.
I haven't heard from her since.

The autopsy made it plain:
yet another addict slain.
Said she never felt the pain.
Scraped her off the fence again.
She met her killers in distress.
She gave them her home address.
Told them when I would return;
so as far as I'm concerned,
I'll make good her claim tonight
on this street of broken lights
and if any should take their chance,
look for them where they once danced.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz