In Whispers

I wonder where I will be

When the solemn breath of the emptiness

Puffs over me.

.

Will the fever have broken,

The delusions of greatness gone?

Or will I be crippled by the weight

Of a perfect swan song?

.

Perhaps my temples will still thud

With the pulse of wanting more

And my eyes will ache from the dreams

Carrying me down the rapids

Into the foam.

.

Or perhaps I will tremble and shake and scream

At the unfathomable injustice

That silences unsaid words and rips the heads

From the shoulders of birds,

Drowns me in empty delusions of flight during night

And a sense of wrong or right.

.

The world comes and goes in whispers.

I am woefully stuck

Between an inhale and exhale.

It will shift,

But I can only hear the catch.

The empty space.

.

Silver Serpent Books

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