Thoughts, Stories, The Poem
In among the simulacra, tangled with light and the threads of simple lies…
Mitchel David Ring
There was a long fall…
Again the lights strung branch to branch blur together over us racing here below…
Lights are on in a basement that should be empty…
This is paradise inside gnashing fangs…
After the sun falls into the sea it lingers in our skin…
High atop the wall between home and the wilds, sentries stand watching chaos…
A soft magic spell goes unnoticed…
Distant fires cover the horizon…
These hills feel colorless…
Why can’t the shadows give us answers?
Blink and it all could fade away…
This noose we share around our necks in dying light becomes a fuse…
Old travels through worlds left behind resurface as pale memories…
Sound returns to a valley of whispers…