The curtain half-drawn,
Light trickles in
Shattering silence
with whispers not meant
to be heard.
The missing pieces
lie beneath the
cracked ceiling tile
in a dream formed
from old newspaper clippings
about nothing at all.
Verse untangled, mind entangled,
in the dance of shadows
on the wall of forgotten
memories.
A story written
in the language of stars.
Somewhere, the clock ticks
too fast,
too slow,
time spirals into
nothingness,
a loop, a never-ending
cycle of
gibberish.
Find the hidden
in the tapestry of dreams.