Times Need Space

No Citadel, kiss-and-tell for me
The shadow shines from where it all began,
Naked attire, masked by symmetry
Inverts the light of pure insight as only shadows can.....
I see him in the mirror of the sun
It cannot melt the rage of this so-called lonesome sage
My life the shadow’s own “go get it done”
And I the captive leader who has walked onto the stage

How did we all become
Aside from the midday run?
And find belonging, yet through our service we’re undone?
Our part is cold,
We are thought too old,
When we question the insight
Of those arms blinded to hold
The shadow-dance tonight.

If this is my black amen, despite the recent oxygen
Of folk who came from air...then hold my hand.
The market-force is just obscene,
Yet it remains the trampoline...
We consume whatever they demand