Deserves to be disobeyed, recalling torture:
Sisyphus rolling backward against tomorrows,
Odysseus forward, mast-bound, haunted
By shattered, shunted, aching noises.
World dawns its pages just for us,
Just for us we jest and jape
Mocked by the sing-song swirl of days,
Ruled by its maelstrom, whirlpool dreams.
Brazen light each imagines
Illumines grief and hope in halves,
Vibrating with constant motion
Just for us, for us
We howl back at the howling gale,
Ponder the abyss between light and:
How strong the hum, such fickle ploys,
Our only constant becomes white noise.