wandering the halls, pacing, here,
then there, this way and that – in
corridors between over-decorated
rooms of the hopeless romantic lover
and the stark stripped-bare
reality of a stinking nihilist’s
hopeless shit-house of oblivion,
with its dullness and pointless obscurity
looking for answers in pain
too many unreal illusions
are at one end,
and silent nothingness
at the other,
just the bitter taste
following me – chasing me
divining into these closets of insanity,
the brutality of life pounding
and raping each victim as one
reaches for love to taste
no eternal bliss or to miss –
eternal silence, quiet, peace.
©Bill Reynolds 3/28/2019
Look both ways. You need to know what’s coming and going.
Look again to mind the gap.