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Crimson pillows,

Sweet pools of life, leak from my vessel of never more.

Deep pillows of red holding,

Lifting, enveloping my soul

And spilling onto the cool earthen floor.

Cool and gray now becomes their holder

As they spread silently, escaping into the night.

Day surrounds but darkness takes

Over, and the windows are forever closed.

Doors of tomorrow close and lock

Though life not under lock and key.

Falls the body which knew no life

But lived in utter bending chaos.

Mind twisting, twisted, snapped,

Shatter, splinter, break in two.

Head humming to the sound

Of loudening silence.

Turn out the lights when chaos is every day

And every day is incoherent, and misleading.

Our thoughts, sometimes, have no meaning

But lead us in directions unheard of.

An unsuspecting vessel in the path of a path.

Crimson pillows, supporting, lifting it high.

Sweet pools of life, still hot with life,

Or lack there of.

Crimson pillows, the beginning and end.

Crimson pillows, pathway to pathways.

Before I turn out the lights I want to hear

The scream of silence.

The screech of placidity.

Crimson pillows, turn black and flow out

To the night no more.