Blankets of blankness sit staring blankly into thine eyes,
while piercing wails of silence cradle in lobes of flesh.
Seal'ed doors of unframed bricks sit idly, occluding the sight of thy mind.
All the while, focus evades the perilous thoughts that thresh.
Still, well-knowing that of thy key to openness,
which lieth still within thy breast,
must, perhaps, be lost at best,
in cold, dark lying emptiness.
Oct 21, 2011
Oct 21, 2011 at 3:03 PM UTC
Blankets of blankness sit staring blankly into thine eyes,
while piercing wails of silence cradle in lobes of flesh.
Seal'ed doors of unframed bricks sit idly, occluding the sight of thy mind.
All the while, focus evades the perilous thoughts that thresh.
Still, well-knowing that of thy key to openness,
which lieth still within thy breast,
must, perhaps, be lost at best,
in cold, dark lying emptiness.
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