the voice inside
is stuttering

blindly cast asunder
to the calmness
of the cold

and so is
selfishly relinquished
beyond the consequences
of awareness
to stagger endless
in the cold

brittle fingers
tremble, numb
feverishly knotting
things undone
scrying answers
from their shadows
in the sun

"shine on me!"
i beckon

then blindness
acquiesces desolation
as pride withers
and cracks
and the pieces fall
from my chest

not even lies reside
in what is left

yet still the whispers
coalesce
upon the substance
of the vacuous
'trust must be the arbiter of truth
and 'I' the paradigm of foolish'

and so we sever
this cell of arrogance
defy self-reverence
and reunite
now duplicitous