BOUNDLESS

Act I

It seems just so – a perfect normal steeped.
In darkness. Now the curtain drooped withholds
Their razor gaze. No eyes can find me yet,
Nor change the strains that fill my eyes by seeing.
I stand alone. All thought mid-movement paused
Like splattered statues ‘cross my soul.

And up it goes: a swell pervades the hall.
A whispered hush and on I go to glares
Of floods diffused on wood. Blank stares,
A blinking storm of eyes does rush to meet
My quivered gut. The statues turn
To silence.

It seems but so – just me and you
For now, to share a moments few.

Act II

Naught is all – unfailing silence pours in
Vacant thought; un-woken sleep a wakeless
Ruler self-absorbed in non-existence stands.
Lone, a wordless speech across itself from
Nothing bursts, to nothing turns for boundless
Self-existent joy.

Act III

Dimmed lights; applause collapses quick upon
Itself; and tumbles downward-spiraled heights
Until the pulse of everyday can rock
It gently to a halt – a quiet exhale.
But soon that spotlight flush begins to wane.
Invincibility bleeds in languid spurts
To gently wet the floor below.
Demented sinews hunch the spine that was upright.
No mask conceals me now.