Now the silence is deafening
As if the drop of a pin
Could set the world on fire,
Though it seems it's already drowning
In everyone's pyre.
In the case of your God and mine
Yours is the better liar.
Have we emphasized enough
The ghosts at our door?
I've walked lonely nights often to know
Even the skies want more.
The only relief any of us can find
Is the cold release
Of a cold floor.
I've opened my eyes through the filter
To see beyond this sentient horizon
Of the critics' minds and
Pragmatic tongues.
I am of insouciance in the peak
Of their inquietude.
I cast a shadow of myself...
...And nothing else.
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