...

ran, i, away,
here, i, am,
am, i, here,
away, i ran.

...

a blaze without warmth,
laughter without mirth,
words without meaning,
life without purpose.

...

there is no beginning to this end,
nor an end to the beginning,
all there is, is the middle,

of nothing and nowhere

there can be no less of hope, when there is simply none,
there is no malady, but simply in the mind,
there is no mind, but in its own imagination,

this is mobius' mental eternity

absent hope is the salve,
to the non-existent malady,
of the imaginative mind,

apply gently

...

I can,
be this,
a beginning,
an end, or even just
the middle,

I can,
also be this,
a prologue,
an epilogue, or simply
somewhere in the riddle,

I can,
be,
the present,
the past, or hopefully
the distant distant future.

what I can not be,
is this,
what I can,
never ever really ever be,
and because this bears,

to be said again,
what I can,
never ever really ever be,
is simply,
an afterthought.

...

it can be this,

a simple plea, or

a litany of words,

meaningless, and

meaningful,

all wrapped,

in one, and

the same,

meaningful, and

meaningless,

litany of words, or

simple plea,

it is this.

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...

we sit guard,
at the doors of our past,
the only ones knocking,
are our own demons,
to be released,
to rummage and plunder,
through now,

the now is good,
it always is,
when threatened,
if perched perilously,
on the edge of oblivion,
from the past,
let the sleeping monsters lie,

the best grave,
awaits,
well deserved,
a eulogy without memories, and
the epitaph unmarked,
silence -
eloquence of the dead.

...

it is this.

there is no meaning,
outside these words,
no warmth,
outside this cold embrace,
no noise,
more defeaning than this silence,
no conversation,
more satisfying than this monologue,
no brightness,
more incandescent than this blazing darkness,

it is this.

and this is,
as it should be.

...

what i hold,
a shiny piece of fractured glass,
uneven edges, scarred within,
my window into the violent world,

what it truly is,
is a mirror,
telling of all faults,
it reflects who i am,

no more a soothsayer,
than one's most earnest desires,
no more a window,
than one's wishful thinking,

'tis time, however
to cast the broken aside,
to take on reality, truth
and build on what's alive.