"Phantasms"

Cold beads of sweat
Slicing the brow
Freezing lashes that fought against black.
What was that sound?
Shattered perceptions,
Of perfect deceptions
reflected in time.

Icy reality
biting the wrinkles
of folded tenacious pillows of grey.
Gasping for breath,
Wrenched to a whisper,
Sunlight fades away.

I'm blind
I see.

Copyright © 2008 Querus Abuttu