Sunday, 2 August 2009


Heavy breaths and far-off sirens
Punctuate the still air.
Gentle rain trickles over slats
And the sky is grey and bare.

I'm here alone with my thoughts;
They resonate within my head.
They're too loud to contain
But they're too heavy to shed.

I can hear a gull's squarking;
I can hear a slow rumble in the sky.
My silence is interrupted by a jet
Passing idly by.

Thoughts occur now and then;
Some of them I dispell.
I think of how the blessed in Heaven
Are really the unfortunate in Hell.

As floorboards creak and moan
With the voicings of my house
The world outside becomes quiet
Like a dying mouse.

My thoughts settle over me
Like a haze of foul air;
As my mind is overcome
By the faint silence of despair.

In a quiet room I unravel;
My mind's hems come apart at the seams.
So, this nightmare in which I live
I'm living as a dream.

No comments:

Post a Comment