time – The Light is On

Romanesque

All roads lead to Romanesque dreams...

Time only for a breath before the plunge then racing through nerve end passageways...

Exhaustion in a cold land, stumbling past dark windows and the ghost of extinguished fires...

It waits for a soul to remember what shadows live on roads among memory...

There is a tower risen out of sand, a wall built to touch both horizons at the edges fallen into raging seas...

Something about this place feels broken...

Lying in wait amid shadows cast by sleeping giants, together breathing in a rise and fall as colors melt and swirl in the silver sky above...

Inside is the beckoning voice, puppet strings dragging our stiff limbs across razor wire tightropes strung up on high...

Shock and awe as reflections close in and we see the many-eyed watchers, the many voiced heralds of doom at the breaking dawn...

From where we stand at the edge we can see the ruins of the mountain, its scars slowly filling with dust...

We writhe out among the stars in fractal whirlpools that give birth to suffering and death...

Rushing in to find things hidden in the dust— digital relics left behind to waste away, to rust in the rain coming through a broken ceiling...

A stirring in primeval shadows, given out to dreams that fell from the sky. Blind eyes know only the promise of light...

Softly the last vestige of light fades from eyes filled with gray years, gazing through an open window out to sea...

I was there when the shadows fell lucid for a breath before tossed beneath the surface and lost in technicolor visions of the stars...