This Place

This place, 

littered with only fragments of the chaos permanently etched in our minds,

causes loops of confusion to play over and over in time.
The falling red of infantile screaming

echoes from an umbilical cord of death.

It snows. 

Every flake settles,

then melts on grounds of insolence and ignorance,
while we stop at nothing to collide with and destroy ourselves.

An uncontrollable rage enters the punctured holes of a man's soul,

revealing a light the world has never before seen,
as this being that surrounds everything
walks over the remaining puddles of water that simply, 

yet barely exist.

There is no truth here in this place;

Only words having nothing to do with each other
that try to explain what is beyond all language. 
So why speak?