thick swirling clouds
of black and rotten thoughts
that plague me
how they cry
when I am weary
no soul should feel so
crowded
no heat should carry this
burden
when the song in me has died
and the glass slips
from betwix my fingers
warm and weary
the sand shall weep
and so shall you
for the  time is up
and the lights are off
no one is home
inside me