Rotation

Empty. Cold. Hollow. Alone.

I walk past cracked walls
That bleed crystal tears.
Vines that twist with thorns,
Shaped by the icy winds promise,
A false comfort of numbness.

Dust and dead leaves dance in silence
Ahead as my blood pumps a rhythm hard and fast.
Silent screams echoing, reverberating past,
And a cold sweat pours down my neck.

Rusty metal arms, silhouettes, seek – surround me
I run with fervor from shadowy cages of memories past.
Footfalls echo the frenzied beating of my heart.
Walls release cruel laughter and old screams.

I crash.

The Earth shatters into glass,
Walls crumble into sand,
Spiraling into a vortex of shard and grain.
Slivers of pain – cutting, piercing, suffocating

Drain me slowly of my essence.

Blood forges into glass and shatters like ruby stars
While my bones crumble and compress into ivory pearls.
My skin tears like parchment, bursting into golden feathers.
Only to be blown away, leaving nothing.

Empty. Cold. Hollow. Alone.