sitting dismal
    cold open
slate stone sitting, watching

the cacophonous howling of a dream’s last breath

the drunken beast swaggers from its hole
manic grin of a madman

the shots ring out in the motionless night

the air is still

ears are ringing while you sleep

dreaming of a place that’s home
where all's welcome and
the dreams that scream are nowhere you can hear
and your eyes are glued to pictures of
your innocence ****** for a billboard
in the plaza

and you let it in

but the scream is still there and
you’ll hear
it
and nothing else

the crash of monoliths tumbling to the ground
lying in their own filth

and the dream hangs on
and it still screams in the bold and open black of solid night
as we whisper about it in closed corridors and the last thing we hear before it stops is
the frozen breath of eternity creeping its way back from where we thought to bury it

look at the moon...

there are no stars...



I feel a chill creeping in…