Hysteria amounting;
Claustrophobia intervening;
Rivers drown in the drowning sea
Drunk by Her own waters.
A touch of my emotion
Touching the sojourn glassy surface
Boiling and bubbling red, spilling forth
Burying all and burning the rest.
Disconnect the astral dots
And join them once more
If you care to stay and find out
Maybe the picture wont remain the same…
The picture is getting smaller,
The frames tighter,
Touch the surface my dear,
Perhaps in its reducing depth you will now disappear.
Disappear into the cold dark frame
The edges closing in,
Hysteria amounting,
Your just a portrait- none can hear you scream.
None would want that face
The artist will edit, your worries asunder;
The countdown delirium ticks
But I am that none-
The none that hears your countdown delirium…
