nameless, they seem
all anonymous drones reciting themselves
aimlessly
a car passes, and no one seems to care but the gravel shrieking, soundless
a dynamic hidden from view
to live, to taste the dew
to find
the few
having felt
the defeat
in the search
of the sweet
nameless, all nameless and withered
all anonymous, constructing nothing from less
and nothing at all
no change in these endeavers
murky patterns running empty
there is a sense in the air still
that there is a hatch not yet opened
and i fall into it
my entrance
through the vicarious vessel of thought
when i venture in those quarters i am both joy and woe
'fore the view is far yet the walls close
enclosed by paradox, conclusions mocking themselves
in cities like these there are no centres
lifted to heavens that cast you back
the source, once flowing with vigour
has dried
the fruit of it's labour
netted, and
deprived
purified, the child
a memory
look in the face of infancy
and see
what hath become of ye
and with the tidal and spiralling
it strikes me, and i swing
from radiance to bleak withering
a tear from the soil
witnessing
the shame
and it's toil
but the blood
shant
boil
__________________ "I found the remnants of a crescent fang,
it cleaned my wing down to the bone....
Umbillical syllables left to decode,
there was no craddle I can taste it!"