Through a mirror of silver my sullen sulcus portrays some dark anger.
For the grey lights wrapped their chaotic shape round my tired, hungry eyes.
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
But to stop would be to blunt the very stars that shine from behind a threatening stone.
The yellow beams, touched by starlight, delve the shrieking
Tortured air, to founder in a sea of ether and a planet of fools.
Idle minutes devour
Open space, seething nebula
Takes hold and strangles
Dripping torment. Bright and lucid
Design that seem to dip and swerve
To 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 darkness.
With morningfall, emptied
It's aching particles into the reaches of my furrows.