Entropy (part 2)

No worries, no stress on our backs

An ocean of stars and our future selves

Asking us to please keep our heads out of the sand,

Its painful sleeping with miniature rocks and

Miniscule diamonds itching at our sleeping cells

Creating for us an image of hell, souls burning bright without bodies…

(I place three logs on the soft orange coal)

No tears, no pain to be had.

As cities sleep on this dark planet,

We can hear their snoring now, yes,

We can hear their screams and cries for help, “An answer…

An answer please!” There is a reason for this silent reply…

No sound, our eardrums may rest

After frantic beating of pulled taught and

Stressed human skin. A bead of sweat

Is all that’s left to penetrate the stillness in our flesh.

Once again our eyes

Deflected to witness a movement…

A black crow passes underneath each and

Every star we see to follow the scent of bloody, aged, death.

Diseased bird flies west, fighting every inhibition

To turn around and face the sun

To travel East maybe, for a change, to see what’s up there I’d guess.

But hunger raging, the bird forgets all about the sun and

Peers down to see two perfectly pleased bodies on the beach.

(And sand turns to water)

The bird sees it’s reflection in the black, starry, glass beneath,

And maybe tear drops fell from his eyes, we’d like to think.

We’d like to think he feels at home.

“Wouldn’t it be great to be a bird… to be able to fly?” she speaks.

“He’s not as free as he’d like to be.” I’d imagined nothing sadder

In the time I’ve been pondering.

But have heard nothing sweeter than her voice breaking silence.

(The logs burst into flames)

Asking me anything about anything. Ask me anything.

I don’t even care anymore, just ask me anything.

Ask me a simple question, just ask me a question,

So I can hear your voice again.