A Metamorphosis Frown

The rain fell down
and I stood outside of the silence,
Outside
Of Everything.
Even when I'm in the supermarket
   - My Luck, my change, blending faces of linoleum -
The blue Light, flickering beneath my glasses
What is alive and what is not;
Sometimes I feel I'm somewhere inbetween.
The Grimreaper on the news, lying on the greensward
Looking down on all His chess fools,
Not Realising
He is a fool himself;
such a fool, using the eyes of mortals.

 

O, the neverending grace of Solitude!
It pervades, invades, escapes,
and eloquently parades; No One
Knows the True mind of anyone, we only see
With these small eyes of hidden kingdoms.
The sensations can be wild and horrifyingly free.
Yet captured in those Eyes of yours,
and the body which rots and burns.
But the Mind, and its everlasting pervading scent
Of Soul
Survives through the apocalypse of these absurd equations

and the falling caves of our own creation;

 

Sleeping and snoring peacefully,

As if nothing had ever happened.