Dew drops came
Thick, sticky
Things in the mist,
Gone as soon as
Seen, washed
In the morning rain.
Inside,
His sorrow bled his
Soul and gauged
The pupils deeper
Through his eyes,
Bored through brain.
Pain pools welled
Round these holes,
And bounced
The light back, blue,
Ungrateful at the
Interrupted shade.
Thoughts welled up
Inside his head,
Of loved ones
Crudely detached,
Cords severed,
Mid-flight.
The restaurant
Dimmed, she,
Opposite, receded
Into Silence, as
The Past caved
In, confining him
To Memory’s passages,
Flickering, beckoning,
Grim.
Occasionally, sounds,
From above,
Outside the cave,
Her voice, something
Trivial, no guidance
Through these tunnels,
Only proof of Present
Beyond his prison,
Past.
vivid