Hypnotisms

Blank is the hovering facade of light
That is ever watchful, ever glowing.
I stare back in the cold of the night.

I feel my mind's eye rapidly slowing
As it gazes upon the eventless stage
My ghostly silhouette remains growing.

In me lies a madness, and when it speaks,
It sweeps away the silent, falling rain,
From the transparency of my heart beats.

So there I sit, to await the coming train
To cautiously scale windy heights
And be tossed about in vain.

This strange and mystic flight
Will observe every sight.

3-24-10