Don’t ask for answers.

I am no bearer of what the world holds true.

I have no words to gift,

No wisdom to impart.

Cannot you see how deep the knife slashed through

And bled my eyes of sight?

Mine is the lack of purpose,

Mine this darkness.

If all I have is silence, 

Ideas running rampart, 

Torn ground beneath the feebleness of thought,

What will you ask of me?

This play of shadows will torment no more…

Let go.

I shall not linger in your path distraught,

The scarlet skies of those who hold all truths will fall

And at the brink of the abyss –

Under the spell of an extinguished sun –

All certainty will find oblivion’s kiss.


Daily Prompt: We Built This City