Wednesday, February 11


A day comes when my mind
Is spellbound to the violent rush
Of emptiness. It feels
As though the agonies
Might last forever.
The deliberate curse of Silence
Is strangely wearing me down
To the skirmish of a deafening loss.
My senses follow me
In every corner, drawing out
The contents of my life
Until the broad daylight
To which I only hang on
Sparks away, too.
This is the very time when
I need to see the viciousness of things
And stir them down
To surround my solitude
Because when forevermore
I choose the loneliest
Of places, I have nothing
To understand me in my
Narrow convergence.

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