Unanswered
In a cold and vacant day,
haunted by sunlight
and the great blue reminder
of the pain of now,
the fierce wild wind
pushes mercilessly against motion,
pushing deep into the memory chasm
to the Gothic reminder
of the sorcery to your becoming.
Fighting the torrent
to the crest of the hill
to relax in the moment
and escape the soul's chill,
ascend into revelry
of madness, and kill
the urge to delusion
of the devil's own thrill.
Who made me do it--
abandon myself?
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