The darkness of the road
That you left unexplored
The you that never lived
And all their smothered words

You left yourself for dead
Went on your merry way
Let shadow claim what might
Have been a better day

You murderer, you coward
Indulgent homicide
You **** so many worlds
With every careless stride

The skylight tints the afternoon grey
And some dull, dusty oranges
Perhaps there's fire, somewhere far away
Somewhere far beyond the creaking shelves
The time-varnished brown, rusty door hinges

The air is thicker than the oldest tomes
Sticky as the darkest aisle
Where long-dead spiders once made their homes
Minds caught in paper, minds caught in webs
I think, if I think, I'll sleep for awhile