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The neighborhood is quiet,
The trees are loud. The pavement is pensive, With us disallowed. It’s always like this, It’s different this time. It’s the silence before, A banshee’s bellicose chime. The enemy is unseen, The cannons still fire, The war has begun, A battalion and its ire. The harbinger came first, The detente sang its song, The banners flew last, Alas, Babylon.
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Do you remember,
When we stood in alleys, But did not pose. Drifted out of slumber, When a glittering orb rose. Do you remember, When we acted before each other, Not through walls of sheen, Sang of our own accord, Not in efforts to be seen. Do you remember, When we penned our typefaces, Missives stamped with a sigil, Dawdled upon unpaved spaces, Only our eyes to keep vigil. Do you remember, When it was all not for, Buttons pressed, clicked, flipped, switched. Do you remember? |
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