Escape

A forgotten sand glass,
A long emptied half, 
Untumbled since 
Before a memory.
Sands weighed under
Themselves turning stone.
A moment someday perhaps
Too alive to be contained
Will tumble the stagnate,
Cracking the standstill;

Time will finally escape.

Rush to catch itself and
Stumble through the jagged
Shards of its crashed tomb,
Grains of its crushed self,
A desert unto the horizon,
Windswept, yet with promise.

To quench an unnamed thirst,

It wanders the tempest dunes,

Chasing sandstorms for a ride

To hunt for fleeting mirages.

Rucksack of Make Believe

My rucksack of make believe

Is soon to run out,

But for now I will spend.

The day has been long,

The evening tired,

And the lonely night

Needs some food to sleep.

I don't live alone,

But with a breathing void,

Who just speaks and speaks

But is never really heard.

I don't sleep alone,

But with a breathing silence,

Who is felt and always felt

But never really warm.

The silent void breathes 

As the night tries to feed,

But never a morsel does it eat.

Hungry it remains awake

And tries in vain to speak.

Yet it screams, it is loud,

But what more I hear is,

How that silent void

You have left behind, breathes.

There's no more left to spend,

It's all run out, it's empty-

My rucksack of make believe.

Alight

Two Buds've Flowered, All Around is Alight,
'Oh! You up? It's a Good Morning, alright!'