Tome stones of onyx and bleached
moments collect next to another.
Playing the theme of silent screams,
that are out of tune, but never heard.

Rising, scratching to that place that is
never reached. But they climb on broken 
keys that scream on the bones that 
are so dull and shimmer in failings. 

They endeavour to reach a place that 
is beyond there influence. The charcoal 
keys are the prolonged motions of a place
where they linger in echoing silent screams.