Solitude – truth in absence
A million light-years away…
A barren abyss – broken
In pieces, flaking frozen
Stewing, swirling, slow motion labyrinth constellation
I alone speak with the wobbling sun
It cries to me as it licks stars clean
'But even though my fire has grown cold, its embers burn…
…My embers have the patience of piranhas.
In my renaissance, my tongues will be trees.
I will vomit thunder through teeth made of mountains.
So many tides have flushed my age away
And with it worn darkness to grey."