Garments of Gold

A vacuous imaginary expanse of proportions ineffable

A rift spanning an abyss of continuity abruptly discontinued

Pragmatic nonsense ammounting to less than nothing

thrust upon the unwitting and unwilling

All of it an embrace too fleeting, a kiss never returned

Of what is there to sing save for the mechanically repetitive, repetitively mechanical

machinations of those who cannot see

who wish not to see

Those who wish to hear nothing said but what they have already said

Those who wish to sing nothing but what they have already sung

A vacuous imaginary expanse of proportions ineffable, immeasurable

Where songs sung too often, too harshly ring in horrendous cacophony feeding on their own filth

In this chasm I yearn for light, illumination obfuscated by clouds of illusory bombast

I yearn for light and darkness is everwhere my answer, an answer of half truths and lunacy incarnate

Demons once so bright, so corporeal now but fleeting shades

Amorphous hues forgotten in fanciful fits of the mundane

Demons once so bright I sought with hands outstretched – nothings, nobodies, false dreams of illusory bombast

The sun has set on another yesterday and yet another yesterday

Today is not, will not, cannot be

Every tomorrow is another yesterday, darker, more menacing than itself

I cry out, hands turned up towards the heavens to be met by a barrage of unspeakable nothingness

Oblivion clad in garments of gold

And I can reach out no longer