Neither in sleep nor wake
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.
