Collapse Into the Comfort of Sound
Collapse into the comfort of sound A fool sitting in the graveyard. Whispering to his lost ones. A new fever was gained in the invention, Or was it an invitation to faking the illness. A prize for the lonely, Secret holes blinding these walls. I can't break the seeds that were combed over this earth. The heat is generating disease. In every ounce of sweat. Colliding recklessly into an unsealing mentality. We, as slime just stuck together from our mind to purity. Letting my mind cast off- the peeling off of disgust. Collapse into the comfort of sound Forget the winding down of aging years. The wind isn't the lonely one, The wind is your best friend. The wind tunnels its way through your psyche. Pulling the crisp leaves - From the pockets of your hands. Crumble, Sprinkle into the silent glaze of Heaven. Collapse into the comfort of sound. A silent sound, a maddening sound. A breathy sound. A sound of a symphony, a sound of a cry. Relax. Colder temperatures are on the way. Panic is in the eyes of the gazelle. Your hunger is a tiger. And the sound is the constant. Comforting, Collapsing, colliding, conversations - with mortality Trusting yourself in each heartbeat. Not letting any of the beats become radical - And escaping to become a lone detriment. Collapse into the comfort of sound. Current bio for Fevers of the Mind’s David L O’Nan editor/writing contributor to blog. Available Now: Before I Turn Into Gold Inspired by Leonard Cohen Anthology by David L O’Nan & Contributors w/art by Geoffrey Wren Bending Rivers: The Poetry & Stories of David L O’Nan out now!