The cruel moon can’t possibly
hold that much love and grief
An empty space, hissing lamps,
Do you hear the silent voice,
The sound of nobody ?
From the past that don’t fit in,
that the finger on trigger,
Low in pitch, try to focus in another angle,
If it gets worse, you won’t find a path
Out of this morass.
Toss off, not enough twist,
Not enough turns either,
Moribund chunk of life,
No longer ossified to rebel against,
collapse into mere dream at the end.