The cacophonous quartet continues deafly
The world turns within my fragile hands
And with each rotation, another fragment is lost
Pools of blood form below,
Drowning the unknowing within its life,
Racing from its source to static being,
Unable to fill all the holes within me.
I turn to the melting heavens
Within the blue, the transparent scales shimmer
Under the setting gaze
The vaporous fish swim slowly,
Aaiting for the evening star.
The lunar moth passes view
Beginning anew its constant flight
The shadows before my gaze disappear
Into hungry emptiness.
The throne beside me, vacant
Rhythmically illuminates my washed sight.
I fall from my seat, yearning to end
Blindly lying upon the ground below me
The void within protests
Was it merely my spoken words that stole
My life from me?
With out its guiding meter, life slowly stumbles
From moment to moment
Without reason or intent.
Under the pain of the unforgettable,
I return to my reigning seat and grab the lie before me
Smashing it into a million pieces adding up to seven.
And what is time, when seconds feel as days, and minutes an eternity?
Years are unfathomable, let alone desired
But ruling reflections must end when dreams are devoured
By their own arrogant intent.
And now I wait for the calling of eternity,
Slowly working upon the painting before me
Perhaps not as true as the mirror's work
The image before me, more natural
Embodies the regrets of how I should have been.
I sit here waiting, reflecting the work before me
Hoping the moment my life gently returns
Upon times soundless breath,
Our kingdom will always be.
