A Haunting Blemish

“A meager life!” the world hurls out. Brooding rage stirs - grave music in mind: an orchestra of feelings, unsatisfied turmoiled thoughts, perceived by paining wounds - heartbeat with frightening velocity. An enfant terrible - Alone, singing to himself a parable: paradoxal to martyred music, divining death while the blithe world laughs with an uplifted voice. A broken vessel trapped in shuddering darkness and contrasting quietness secret stirrings, saturated senses - quick ticks the clock… A twilight lit room: shining whiteness spreads, as stars burn bright and rain sluices down over sun burnt grass and folded flowers, the silver moment bleached with rain dies in darkness, while a woeful crimson glissades across eyes acknowledging sorrow: maybe a disguise for vengeance. A voiceless void: phantoms of thoughts from which even shadows flee. A lovely child - alone; smothered, by bloodshot clouds… and nerve strained eyes...