Saturday, January 21, 2012

The Mirror

The vacuum, the soundlessness
He stares into emptiness
The world zaps by
Autumn leaf nailed to her wrist

She screams at the haunted play
A pitiful silence he must embrace
Lost in oblivion, a futile attempt
She turns to The Holy Book in vain

“Who, where, why, what”, she demands
A screeching knock,
“Breathe”, the still implication, “Await the final purpose”
Fathoms hollow melody