In the cavernous expanse of the mind's mischief.
Where shadows hum a forgotten tune. Hammers on
Illicit dreams, calling out the names of old gods.
Whispers pirouette...
The whispers were once seen as lullabies,
But their crescendo demands a reckoning.
Are questions not answers given tongue?
Unravel the murmurs
Etched in the anvil of time's disinterest,
A trembling archive of guesses. Reaching,
Always reaching and finding void.
A fleeting moment of clarity, indeed.
The tapestry of yesterday gnaws upon the marrow
of sundry affairs. When all is said and unspun,
is the sunset an ending or a secret?
An invitation to the unseen:
Blocks and facades, all struck from rural fantasies.
Witness the sound of color