The voices are always there
And the words have been spoken
We are there to listen for understanding
In order to make our own destinations
With every presentation
We seek clarity
We get a grasp of the story
In order to avoid ambiguity

There’s so much light.

It’s bright
Glaring
Scorching
Darkness inside.

It’s burning
Erasing
Covering
Truth inside.

Isn’t it beautiful in the dark?
When there’s no sun to mellow tone the brain
When there’s no light to scorch the sight

Dark, like dots on black.

Where the skeleton uproars
The stench crawls  
And the wound moans.

It’s too much light
Too many masks.
Too many smiles.
Too bright.
And Burning.

I like the night sky better.
It's beautiful.
It's cold.
It frees.