They feel so small
deep within these hard, glass walls
shake them, shake the children, shake the women
the men will fall.
WAR IS PEACE
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH
The snow is spinning,
spinning around them mockingly.
Soon it lies at their cold dead feet.
SHOUT, CRY:
WE ARE THE DEAD
The process begins again.
Pushed up against the glass
their breath creates steam,
their screams make a crack,
their love burns a hole,
their defiance breaks the Globe.
There is no scream.
A fresh crack in the glass:
are they the first or the last?
To break the Globe?
No. There is no crack. There is no break.
There is no hope.
2+2 will always = 5
Blind eyes see no crime.
Bruised ears hear no scream.
Paralyzed hands feel no pain.
THIS IS PEACE
There is no scream.
Not really,
not even a echo vibrates
off these glass walls.
Just snow.
Spinning,
spinning
in the machine:
turning the gears
freezing all that is human.
It is perfect
It is powered by the snow...
When it stops,
only we will know.
