Window pane pessimist

A bleak little number..

Growing indecision amidst the shadow

Of human fiction.

Wreathed in snarling strands of sulphur.

The street; an ember of human civilisation

Groaned in the effort of perseverance.

“ An empty self is infinite, a true and total

ID , reactionary animal truth.”

“ When I look out from my window all

I see is that infinity, that Horrible horrible infinity “

“Is there no escape to the finite, the reassuring

Limitations of a self?”

The gray of the world sweats with the remains of

Last nights precipitation. Curdled cream clouds

Fill the sky with hideous aromas for the eyes.

“Such bland dew, and the birds, they are empty to listen.”

“ look at the natural beauty, look right through

, to it’s deep chaos foundation.”

“Hope?” “HA!” “The word is just a symbol

For denying what is held in the hand, felt in the

Wind heard in the ear.”

“there is no ‘hope’ “

“Just the moment, THIS Moment.”