Fragmented Sun – Redux

Fragmented Sun

I fell asleep and woke up again.

Checked my phone for messages, cast it aside and closed my eyes.

My eyes open and an imaginary pen sits poised between my lips
as I start typing,
not knowing where this will go.

Words create us, give us dictionary driven meaning and then serve only to destroy us.  

I look  at pictures on the wall and peel back the surface
to find lives moving underneath like a flicker book.
We all share something that is blessed.
Stars have aligned to give us each what we have.

Words dwindle and die like the twinkle of millennial aged suns fragmenting,
separating and returning to eternal Void.
Inspiration falls at the feet of Mercy as the Greek tragedy draws to a close.

Curtains meet, signalling the end of  the play. “All the World’s a stage, all the men and women, merely players”. The luster of the curtains fade downwards,
blotting the wooden frame of the stage like a Rorschach image.
We have nothing left but our own insecurities by which to decipher that image.

The imaginary pen falls from my lips.

Typing stops, head meets pillow.

I invite a minor death before mornings rebirth.

The cycle continues.

Our lives unchanged.

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