Whispers of the Mind

Swan song

We suffocate in darkness.
Its inescapable clutches hugs the shoulders of empty frames,
Crushing them under mountains of intagible horrors.

Their is no light, no saving, hopeful filament.
No more dreams.
Blind suffering is your reality.
You cry and fumble endlessly,
for even the tiniest comfort.
Warmth, light, a hand.

And all the while it grins

We are the forgotten ones,
erased from memory.
No love, nor God, nor angel knows us.
We are alone.

And all the while it grins.

We are destined to drown.
But when we do it will be beautiful.
We must sing in our chains of darkness,
Fill our blind prison with the colour of our hearts.
We will sing through the hopelessness of our own demise.

And grin.

We will make helpless angels weep,
With apologetic tears of red and gold.
We will sing with peace in despair,
Because it was on our terms our hearts were sold.