Empire of Emptiness
Silent city, unreal like a bad dream
Its beads of noise soaked up by weariness.
Smoky beams splash sunlight on my dusty floor
And shadows of leaves rustling restlessly—
My ancient floor with sets of little footprints;
They bring some sounds distant, some calls distant
They won’t hear my answer any more now.
When another live butt off the ashtray
Hits the floor smoking and rolls to a stop
Its muffled thud rings clear—smoldering thud!
Did it burn out the loose seams of sound
Or bust down a hidden sealed crack to the world?
Small sounds trickle in slowly like strangers
Timid first into a silent world of no sound—
The burnt-out fan creaking possessed in the wind
The wind chime tinkling at the empty porch,
And the sound of my breathing, but no more!
They rather deepen the cut into my soul!
Long shafts of yellow crash onto the floor
The shadows are still rustling on the floor
Voices still calling from the distant past—
I’m curled up in one corner of my room
Observing the emptiness building its empire.