A total lack of chill Yet the room feels As cold and empty As space itself: Vast and unyielding A black hole soul Defining the edges Of what it means To be Afraid. That is a cute hat. It hides your eyes and Shields your scorn Do the stars disappear Just because it is Morn? Does steel ever crack? Does the white bird fly? Are the ships upon the water? Is this a speck or a log That is in my eye? Do you like to write rhyme? Is what's yours really yours? Is what's mine safe or lost? Do you believe in freedom - Freedom at any cost? Can you ever walk back Across the bridge Of what has been given And has been given up? What would your mother say If you could see her? Would she say that It was worth The cost? And the infinity loop Expands Expands to envelop The soul And the numbers On your pillow Are the combination To the hole That is torn The hole that is rent In the substance And the marrow Of a world which Is bent Quite out of Shape As it is turning Out of time For any more Learning Out of room Out of space And the diamonds That are laced Across the Curtains and The veils Are spinning To no avail. And all the mirrors That are broken And the promises That are open To interpretation Are left lacking In addition To their cracking. Enough. Time is yearning For borders Keys are turning In locks that have been Fit But we cannot get Out of it. Mountains are Not made to go Around. The wall is Coming up Rising Out of the ground. All these petty sacrifices Made out of noise and sound Are too bourgeois to prevail, Too petty petty to lift the veil Too lacking and too dumb To ever move even the Thumb from which you struggle under. You are lost, doomed, Cast asunder. There is no turning back For you. There is no way back to What will, will be, And who you used to be To you, or to me Or to any Who have eyes Which see. I must say You have A distinct lack Of chill Yet are The Coldest Thing I have ever felt This common side Of Hell.