Light out...
Dawn like a faulty clock stuck to dusk
As darkness awoke slumber -
Pillowed by nightmarish mares.
We can no longer tell the difference.
Friendly pests, raised a lullaby
Mused by blood-spattered pain;
They joy in glutton's delight,
Until restless hands put them to sleep.
Yet, the music streamed on.
Light on...
Sight once sane in the shadows,
Now blurred in daylight's fury.
Day becomes a kind of night
And night, a kind of day,
We can no longer tell the difference.
And as truth begins to sprout
Light out.
3 comments:
They joy in glutton's delight. Is it they joy or their joy?
@Annon: I understand what you mean but I used 'joy' deliberately as a verb.
Thanks for stopping by.
If only we can hold on to daylight... then we will never fear the night, when the lights are out.
Post a Comment