Silence falls against
the darkness,
And they emerge. It’s as if
There is something trapped in the back
Of their minds; a caged dream,
A violet nightmare, struggling to
Get out. I wonder if they only write
The words to banish them to the
Minds of others, or if somehow it
is all harmony for them. Every now
And then, it is like the music of screaming
driven through reeds. Or perhaps we
Only know the screams, and they know
The music. Where do the bars end and
The creatures begin? We know each other’s souls
So little . . . That darkness we share.