From the cold, dank room; musty smells emanate,
The cold eye freezes and turns over in the frost,
Catch a star, falling far, falling free,
Shining for everyone; not just me
Trying to make sense of this entropy disorder,
Wet cat nose leather finds protection
from drying up in the hot weather,
A life? Maybe. Omniscient? No.
Turn away and find the inspiration
amongst the perspiration –
insurance against the inevitable alienation
Celebrate with the nation. All of them?  
Two colours, eye-gas, brain-grass, not in that shirt, Scott!
The crepuscular gloaming gives way,
Orange light now dominates the night,
keeping away the hurt and fright.
Drifting now, lost but not lonely. If only.
Size up the coffin and make marks
on the wall to measure how tall
Tear it down, sweep up the pieces and throw them away.
All will be revealed, my friend.
Perhaps.
One day.