The world comes through as reflections on glass
And I wonder what those on the other side see
If anyone exists in the room beyond the window
Longing as I do to step off the ledge
And take flight over this ocean of lights
To seek out the eldritch fire with frozen hands
That cannot feel its warmth before their flesh has burned away

Shed the night that lays siege to all
When waking eyes refuse to see the world

The howling wind is a whisper in your ear
A gentle urging to release your grip and fall
Through to the center of a dream-soaked world
Beyond the reach of the king in chains
And the factory farm of his royal court
Made up of empty seats where once sat those who’ve gone out
To ready the masses for slaughter

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Photo by energepic.com from Pexels

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I got to thinking today about how the way I write has been influenced by who/what I’ve read over the years. What authors, current or otherwise, would you say inspire you the most?