Devoid

Saturday, January 22, 2005:

I watch the birds fluttering around
Hopping and pecking at the ground
Gathering their sustenance from things by me unknown and unseen
They hop from tree to tree
And on the ground amid the leaves
Which, though it is nearly spring, still populate the land
But somewhere nearby burns a flame
A flame unlike any other, one not of fire
It is an unceasing flame of darkness, fed by fuels from within
Inside my brain it hides in shadows
For it casts no light upon anything
But if by chance a thought may pass
That is not wholly clean
Possessing in its nature feelings untrue
Of sadness, longing, or other shades of blue
It will be devoured by this flame, as a wolf upon a lamb
Feeding the fire's eternal thirst
For the blood of it's only keeper
All of these things to the birds are unknown
But somehow they seem to see
That in that ground there is no sustenance for me
And unlike them I have no wings
So they are oblivious, unless I chance to walk amongst them
For they sense the heat from the flame, and they flee
They can't share their wings of serenity
They know that the flame will not be extinguished
Until it extinguishes me
And inside my head it consumes everything
As if there were a hurricane of blue thoughts gathering speed
And the smoke is making it hard to breathe
I can't ignore the flame anymore, so I watch the birds amid the trees
It seems that they were right
There is nothing in that ground for me
And I have no wings, and no where to fly to
There is no more hope
For it has become fuel for the monstruosity

That is growing darker and making it hard to see
Now my world is shrouded in smoke
And like a lost fireman, the exits allude me
And the walls are closing in
All I can do is watch the birds, barely moving
This is the end for me

Chris // 1/22/2005
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