Slow Observation
The cold fabric of humanity
The diseased pulse of a city
Seen through microscope eyes
that seduce the unknown.
A faint whisper I thought I heard
A fossil of the pale interior
Words dissolve to a brush of wind
And I can only observe
Merely
Sincerely
While the candle burns
to nothingness.
The eternal cycle
will plague it's numbered pawns
till seeds of life have withdrawn
in slow writhing
of universal fibers
Like a leer from a wandering eye
Silent soundscape
Helpless cry.
Now free us
from ourselves
and from inside.
Copyright © Joshua Hornsby | Year Posted 2009
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