Fractured Silence

Stars have neither the nerve nor
the courtesy of shedding any light.
We walk on streets with names,
but none with faces.
The architecture of emptiness,
I struggle with the night. We exist,
but how, in concrete spaces.
Fractured silence, wilted shadows
precede another day. Our time
pressed beneath glass. Only
a collection, hardly a recollection.
Whether we do
or whether we will,
is this what was meant to be,
is that how I am meant to feel?
Through bitter truth I learn
love lies, bleeding still, unnoticed
then by weary eyes.
Come the morning,
what do you see? Is it
a likely ever after, or a promise
you still can’t believe,

© 2015 j.g. lewis

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