The night mocked me with its' shadows,
soul-less herds on parade
down the boulevard.
Keeping time with the doors that smile
that crooked smile,
in the false luminescence
of a wayward street light,
sickly orange hued madness
that pierced my eyes,
and turns my guts into;
a sleepless madhouse.
It's easy to believe
we're all broken in the night
and to find yourself wandering,
amongst the miscreants.
I am haunted by,
what I cannot achieve
but more so tortured;
as those empty promises
ring the bells
of half past three
and go echoing down,
these empty concrete corridors.
Her eyes spoke to me the words,
which hid from her mouth,
as she cast about for meaning,
in the din and hollow,
staring into
one good eye,
begging to be seen.
Here's to an internal life,
straight from the heart,
of the universe's ocean,
Where nothing will rest,
until she does.
