The depthless darkness
Sighed as it seized
The hairs of greybeards
The cries of newborns
Seeing them as funds for a festival
In the district of destruction
Hosted by hollowness
And all of agony would attend
Enjoying endless examples of extinction
Melancholy would come bearing a broom
Sweeping up the sea of scattered skulls
That this crowd had dropped as mere debris

I paddle as he talks
Of life, and the veil just behind it
The water plops as he plods,
On about the things humans never deserved
Saying we have no true structure, style, or word
All is annihilated by the Absurd
Yet with his nugget of knowledge in mine
I paddle on

Amongst the broken ships
I see thy standing upon a sinking deck
No chains bound her in place
The glare of sunlight shields her face
Then swans and sparrows come in pairs
Settling upon her feet
Pecking and prodding with cooing sounds
Their music a masterful soothing score
That drowns out the brutish ocean’s roar
So that a new sea of melody floods the world
Then all these notes flow into the girl
Resting within her once rigid heart
Which has now become a sacred Ark

She lays along her porch
In clothes of comfort
Enclosed in comforts
A modest house
A ancestral skill
A family purring in peace
Yet I’d only want a piece
Of her
None of all that other
Such a western reality
Is rooted in my mentality
To see her behind a glass
As children gawk and gasp

A trembling leaf, lifted
By a passing truck
Where a Mother and daughter
Sing in vaulted out of tune tongues
Their hands salted in sweat
From a day of numbing unnamed work
A strand from each of their hair
Floats out of the window
One flying into the forest
To rest upon a fallen tree
That had seen enlightenment
In the darkest most obscure storm
The other strand floating
For many miles
Into a crowded city,
Sampling each sound
Gesture,
Pace,
Before landing atop a door handle
Savoring the touch
Of so many souls

Straps encrusted with family crests
Dutifully straddled the masculine figure
Armor affectionately clasped the broad chest
The sword nudged in between calloused hands
The helm longed to greet a rough beard
Now all suited and lusting for heroic feats
Yet when such attire
Came upon the visage
Of man's unequal other
Night did descend in haste
Blotting out the irises in mass
So that heroine’s, Great daughters
Drowned in the depths of darkness
Choking in fits as they sunk
Until their feet sampled the sand
Of history’s vast ocean