Camera.(Abstract) Poem by Neil Gray

Too tired today.

Around each corner
the Chesire smile of Death
awaits
while all the time
my World slowley
collapses.

The circle is almost complete.

I open my mouth
but my voice lay's dormant,
I open my eye's
but theres nothing too see.

Can you hear me?
Can you feel me?
Can you pray for my salvation?

Reach out a hand....
....I'm sorry.

Nothing remains except a pile
of ash that once
resembled reason
in the cold light of day.
But this is of little comfort
when the beast in your closet
is the wolf at your
door.

Too tired today.

Black and white
photograph,
A composit snap-shot
of you,
of us, of them.

And what becomes
of these memories that
we took?

That we took for granted.

Rural towns pour away
underneath
the car window
as the thrashing sound
of cutting machinery
provides a comforting
rythem to my
peacless sleep.

And
it's almost
as if we were never here,
almost as if we
could take it with us
when we go.

This montage,
this collarge
of mannerism's
of God's we never knew,
Of inner sanctum
never found.

Call it my Picazzo moment.

These binds cut deep
into my wrists,
this cell darkens quicker
this time of year

And if I had
one bullet
I would carve my name
on the wall of Time

Leave it there
for the ages,

Maybe then they'd
know we'd passed
this way.

Too tired today....

............Fade.