Endless Night - Poem by Christopher Withers
words elude my breaking sight,
dream, and dreams of forms
built and forged upon the light, now -
it fails, consumed by night.
aloof the babe at mother breast,
forged a world, upon its flesh.
lines and form, subdued in sense,
amorphous matter - cracked and rent.
are true the words, which mask seeming?
or void held gaze, and lack of dreaming?
a man, a man, in restless slumber,
context born of lust and hunger.
can we see, a world past sight?
strip away the egos might?
a star, a star, throws out its light,
the endless night.
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