The In-between

The world has run through its pathway,
And all that is left is the space inbetween.
Ever fear, for here you die.
Ask why we lie, awake, dishonest,
And there it is.
That dark black chasm,
the one that's all the unknown,
that we cannot see because
we will not see -
just turn a step, a rock, you leapt
fallen down as many others.
Inky blackness, stolid, crept,
and swallowed sisters-mothers-brothers.

One may not cross the current
unless deterrant wall or bridge does span it.
Still we step in with longing heart
that is swept away softly into dust.

A greyish box, that's home sweet home.
It's quiet, this my solemn throne.
Alone, away, and sealed quite in,
with no solid purchase yet to win
from blackened walls without a seam
as a silken white and blackened ream
or crown, if pretend is more your type.
I sleep here yet by endless night,
For I, as you, I cannot look
to right
to left
as chasm's go, this takes the cake -
though I am one of infinite islands
stranded in its icy sea.

Spend your day on bridges,
It's what I've chosen to do.
Convey yourself to woo me so we may both
reside outside of solemn prayer.

More than silent tears and screams
that never make it past my bedroom walls.
I want to hear you scream, let you scream,
Let you cry, cry with you.
But what use is it for me to send my tears
In wishes to your off-direction?
How many bottles wash upon the shore
when cameras aren't there to see them?

Bring a bridge to me,
as I have learned my craft and started
reaching out to you.
Cross the horizon-lacking sea
and we may soon be long departed.
And learning that, though bridges met us,
we may fly to married, empty, open days.