Unnamed

Circa March 2010

Ambiguous absence of noise. Then, cataclysmic.
All. Nothing.
The chill-invoking roar of angelic
And yet so hell-inspiring tunes of harmonies.

All stands still. Atmospheric.
Colors
Of white and gray. Isolation.
Is there any way out?

Snowed-in mountains
Trapped
In by all of them . . .
There is no way out.

Just stand on the side and
Watch
It all glide through.
The beauty. The freedom.

The lust and desire you feel for it all.
Yet
Captivated they all are from you.
They're there, on display
Like
A painting at a museum.

But everybody can touch them
Though
They are kept back.

Everyone, except for me.
Stars fall.
But he never will.