—Shakespeare, Hamlet
In a high wind
In the dead of night...
It's absurd.
Outside the Moon
Is a flickering light
And no is listening
Or cares what you write.
Speak truth
To silence,
And words
Fall to earth each time —
Imprisoned forever
Upon paper,
Trapped
Behind bars of lines.
Better to remain
Aloof and withdrawn,
Friendless,
Like a hawk
In the clouds,
For rain and words
Finally fall
To the ground —
Where everything
Dark and numb belongs.