Between Footsteps

Denzel-movieThe moving pictures still
Paused by an invisible hand
Frozen in space and time
Languishing like wine
The cellar cold as hell
Before the Christians came
And planted crosses deep
Colors blurred by sin
A disconnection of the soul
Or some facsimile thereof
Rooted in misplaced beliefs
These soldiers on screen
Halted before the massacre
Stopped between footsteps
That would lead to death
But they’re not real anyway
Their godly wars undone
By the magic of modernity
A fragile tension breaking
Shattering this make believe
Like stepping out on ice
And watching the cracks spread
Their faces show the strain
Of this sudden understanding
Bereft of all other emotion
Slates wiped immaculately clean
As the film begins to revive
They move out of the frame
And we’re left to wonder
If we’ve ruined the fantasy
If it’s just in our minds
Or if it even matters
In the end.


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