No audience
Gathers round the
Catatonic
Ne’er moving
Man;
Like a mime
Without
The empty airs
Of pretentious
Performance –
He stands eternal
In marble monument
Watching over shadows
In silent duty.
No audience
Gathers round the
Catatonic
Ne’er moving
Man;
Like a mime
Without
The empty airs
Of pretentious
Performance –
He stands eternal
In marble monument
Watching over shadows
In silent duty.
When weighty words
Of nescient nobles
Weigh nothing at all
Yet those words
Still burden broken beings
With lead-lacquered lore
That holds captives
Captive with dark dreams
Dreamt up –
Leant upon themselves;
The oppressed –
Supporters of their
Own oppression.
That is when
Suppressed speech
Speaks up
First, a word
Then a torrent.
Thoughts tearing down
The self-supported cell…
The pale words of white-washed men
Weighed
By the masses –
Found empty as echoes…
A room with nothing in.
To observe it would make it not empty at all,
But if you do not look within,
Then how do know it is empty to begin?
Nothing is something,
But something is not nothing.
A puzzle, is the breath carrying the words:
“This room is empty,
Move on, there is nothing to see here”…