The hand closes around the broken heart
Turning white and stiff
Squeezing that last bit of life from the core
Until they scream for more.
The screech of a hawk
Soaring over fear as if it were hard, rocky land
Which none can escape
For gravity sucks it in harshly.
Fall apart, dear
There is no such thing as hope
Just as there is no such thing as death
It is all a concept.
But who are we to talk of the universe
And all of its questions that remain unanswered
Words, that fall flat and dead
When they are used to explain such things.
Pure water, with some specks of dust
Trailing along the forest depths
So where is the destination?
The place where all is light?
But where is the light when there is no dark?
And the dark when there is no light?