Lost Poem by Stephen Beckett

Staring at a speck on the horizon
Mind empty, totally blank
Sitting and waiting for that thing to happen
The flint to spark, the spark to ignite
In a flurry of madness, a thousand flames
Dancing in the moonlight under
The hanging stars, tied up to the sky
Ropes round their necks, their tears sparkling
Shining down on this seemingly pointless world
There’s nothing going on down here
Except me and my brain sat in intellectual
Hysteria, won’t someone come and save me from myself
I’m waiting for that thing to happen, sitting and waiting
For someone to find my lost soul
Wake me up from my conscious coma
Come a’ searching from over the hill’s horizon
To find me, get me out of my trance and
Save me from myself: you look lost…