The Darkness falls
Colour dimmed in anticipation
The Rhythmic tastelessness of a dead civilization
Filled with dieing glimpses of beautiful limitations
The death of friction
Now only cold anticipation
There is no break,
Now captive of the now.
Aware is my perception
The commonness of ‘how?’
The answers are but questions
Nothingness let fly
The numbing multiplicity
The unasked question, ‘why?’
In the thickness of transgression
Secret passions, crystal eyes
Pained they shatter pointed, sectioned
Crushing pressure, inward cry
Awkward cogs in all directions
Catching, grating, crushing wry
Vivid blood now oils this fragment
Copper vectors constant lies
Machine carcass now gone stagnant
Ceaseless wounds ask why I try
In the frost of pointless movement
In the stench of rotten time
Is their movement in this darkness?
In this cold I’ll surly die