HOLLOW HALLS





Twists of torment grip their faces,
And a vacant shell replaces you.
Hollow halls echo the pain
Of childish vices, whorish prices
To be in the main;
Stream of consciousness shouts
An echo through these vacant places.
And a fall, a shatter
The walls have no matter
Or bounds anymore;
The hollowness surrounds them all.

Around the corner are the pieces of you
Surrounded by children:
Children of torment,
Of illusion and of confusion.
Observing your mess,
The only substance left,
In these hollow halls
Their tears fall
Without notice.

Screams of torment fill their ears,
But no sound rings out in here.
Mindlessness' peer
Gives a wink, invitingly calls,
And those that answer shall
Follow pathways of hollow halls.
~





DBrown Fisher
© Aug 1990

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