The Slow Burning Light
I
the slow burning light mocks
centuries and clocks spinning still
novels farm dust in window sills
and endlessly thoughts roam halls
poets die receding
ghosts burn brittle pages
ink tears tyrannical
hues blast screaming war
II
a patient awakens
in a white
room full of
voices
his heart pounds
hell’s last hope
roaring pain
drowned in
flames
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