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| 19 | Woolgatherings | |||||||||||
| Sarcophagus | ||||||||||||
| That
sound! What is that sound? Distant and dropping from Some void above me Disagreeable in its finality My heart, empty and I Powerless and pursued. That sound! Blind canopy Bound in blackness Darkness deep Thick and dismal Failed yearning Just beyond my grasp That sound. I remember nothing and everything. Aware. Cold. Vacated. - Omitted and alone, except for That sound. In my distress, hopeless In fear, and nothing else but That sound. In all my days I never heard such a Sorrowful noise as that sound Vacant and completely horrid Muffled and dropping Like falling rain and hail on a Car roof - Aloof. I see only soot black Between me and That sound! |
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| R. Milan Gura | ||||||||||||
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