Echoing Key

The wind stretches the sails of remnants indelible,

a memory that resounds

across the anteroom of vaulted Darkness

which very blackness the chasm made light to defile

the awake slumbering of the quilted lamps.

And the question still stands,

Is it a memory

or a vague dream toiling its way to life?

A Deadly Symphony

Image by Prawny from Pixabay

Neither there nor here –

dwelling in the inbetween where nothing is real,

yet it all lives and has its being.

Deem it a dream –

a heartbeat of torment perpetual.

It is madness viewed through the eyes of the eternal –

a foreign iconoclast so closely distant.

Dancing in the breeze like some aethereal sylph,

the heavens sing and the heart screams;

for the watcher has forgot to be human.