The pain of immobility and silence;
by Robert Siney
suffocating with their mystic mockery.
And the lingering fragrance of prophecy
exists only within hidden footsteps.
Life is just an empty shadow
but life is all I have.
Secondary emotion dispelled by reason,
Must I acquiesce to a magnified anguish?
As I desperately grope for clarity
I find only my tailored paradox.
I’ve been betrayed by this sadistic melancholy;
but its ink still smears my page.