The spackled light cowers,
Sulking behind the mocking horizon,
And you feel the face’s presence invade your reality.
It haunts your dreams,
I see it in your eye.
Frozen in time,
With graceful gaunt expression.
You are in love with it,
Poor haggard victim,
In love with its forlorn pleading.
The time has come,
For intense calibration.
Plunging down the winding lanes,
Focusing,
On memory’s hyperbolic portrayal.
In tune with the silent cry,
Until ignited rapture bursts its seams,
And winged creatures flee with purpose.
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