Hollow Halls

Twists of torment grip their faces,

And a vacant shell replaces you.

Hollow halls echo the pain

Of childish vices, whorish prices

To be in the main;

Stream of consciousness shouts

An echo through these vacant places.

And a fall, a shatter

The walls have no matter

Or bounds anymore;

The hollowness surrounds them all.

Around the corner are the pieces of you

Surrounded by children:

Children of torment,

Of illusion and of confusion.

Observing your mess,

The only substance left,

In these hollow halls

Their tears fall

Without notice.

Screams of torment fill their ears,

But no sound rings out in here.

Mindlessness’ peer

Gives a wink, invitingly calls,

And those that answer shall

Follow pathways of hollow halls.

~

DBrown Fisher

© Aug 1990