Faceless, voiceless, darkness.
Blackened and barren, pitched in
screaming silence wailing about in
this shadow shrouded prison.
Can you see?
The edges crumble like rotted mortar,
flayed with the rough edge of the harshest tool.
Can you hear?
The sonorous pounding as each piece,
is hewn away, falling into the echoes below.
Still another piece is roughly torn free.
Loosened unmercilessly with the cracking whip,
of a cruel word.
The hammer stroke that drives the damaging spike
deeply into the cracks, chipping off tiny slivers that sail off,
to be consumed within the shadows of this wasteland.
I cannot rebuild these walls, my self,
without the love I need from you.
Without you, all that is left of me,
are these charred remains.
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