Quiddity

Through a seam in the fabric of existence

Does the day's soul leak through;

The sole witness to the shadows

Bending to the tune of bones-

As they carve an object of flight

From parchment, so frail.

On turned tables do we cavort

To rhythms, unhindered by probabilities-

As we thrive between intervals undefined.

For the truth of being, do we bleed.

The sick stench of facades

Obscuring visions of beauty blighted.

In a world where

Trust is tainted with trust,

Love stained by love,

As hands that walked our first steps

Are forced into binds by

Hands that wrought hateful love;

Existence, do we muster.

Oh, call out hearts and souls -

For sustenance of sight so true,

Whilst we soar through

A world set ablaze - for fear of loss,

In remembrance of music

That once held love captive.