Bore black feathers
Sinking sun, wilted, weary.
Pierced nightfall, pale, hollow.
The rain across your face.

A sombre stream pesters my cheek.
Deprived of light, forgotten glee.

Scalpels of light bring to light my hand, coated in dirt.
Beneath this layer is written: "Don't forget the soap."

Wading through the banality.
Cast down my reason, forgotten glee.
When the words that make promises
Are made meaningless from overuse.

Sitting alone, silent and still.
Bereft of colour, dreary, frail.

The nightingale's song has ceased.
So flourish insincerity.
Plunge us into ignorance.
And this is humanity. How lucky!

Scalpels of light bring to light my hand, coated in dirt.
Beneath this layer is written: "Don't forget."
Scalpels carve into my once wet skin.
"The birds chirp. Not once, not twice...NEVER!"