Neither in sleep nor awake I hear,
a wingless fall, out of the clouds with a thud and splash on the lake.
An injured word flutters to the beach
wanting to fly back to its flock, syntax.
Sick of my circling thoughts, I choke on sounds of ducking gravel.
My sea was green under the sun though I never cared for the craft.
My gift had been gift of pain. Land opens like a mouth, in awe.
So much cruelty was never seen before.
Anger and greed, lust and beast blooming in veins of man.
One perfect excuse to kill a day.
Goodness was death, foresight for crusted ambition.
You in dark and dark in you.
Tomorrow a blue moon will come,
when night weeps and stars move away in fright.
