writing – Page 2 – The Light is On

Residual

ten thousand lifetimes in a single breath exhaled...

In his right hand a sceptre, in his left a tattered grimoire...

Chandeliers flicker, holding dying flame...

can’t stop tearing can’t stop gnawing...

Clawing at stone, frantic, it crumbles away to dust and behind the wall are theater lights...

A broken branch found life again, grafted to a ray of starlight...

Waves rolling under iron-forged skies, clouds fighting to hold back the sun...

There’s no way through...

Dreams of rain in the sky above caught by the sun in clouded cells...

Threads now severed are all that was left holding together some facsimile of sense...

Back where mist rolls off the mountainside like exhaled sorrow...

Too many voices screaming, altogether one confusion...

Suddenly the wind stops, sails fall empty against the mast and over worlds unknown we drift...

Blind in a room becoming cold, inches away from inferno...

The rains have always fallen here...