Through a mirror of silver my sullen sulcus portrays some dark anger.
For the grey lights wrapped their chaotic shape round my
Fractaled rancour bleeds through the lifeless mirror within which
all hope sprawls, dangling from the cool
draught of air to amuse us all.
The black and white frames which flash unerringly, bend
they bend to an end, touched by
scorching sunlight and this self induced madness
Where I see the world explode into miniscule droplets of unnerving sadness
stop would be to blunt the very stars that shine from behind a threatening stone.
The yellow beams, touched by starlight, delve the
tortured air, to founder in a sea of ether and a planet of fools.
Idle minutes devour
Open space, seething
takes hold and strangles
dripping torment. Bright and lucid
design that seem to dip and swerve
fathomless depths, where eyes can drink
the sights of dreams.
It is in these moments of ponderous nausea that the scattered
The cruel, silver portrait swallowed by time itself had uttered nothing
but truth through the separated
With morningfall, emptied
it's aching particles into the reaches of my furrows.