going under in the sinking sand

got shaky hands and a naive heart

it's a like small bells
         someone is snapping them, crunching and stepping on—
thrown into an empty cathedral. spaces that should be filled with something scream. the emptiness roars as it devours; the silence decomposses.
              because of the heat. it will kill you and consume you, so find it first and at least have it be your choice—
madness at first blush is unbounded in its vastness. the stars work as hard to be what they are as do the rocks underfoot, yet still we turn our eyes up
                                       better then to pluck your eyes out
and prefer what we see.

I think I have seen this madness of now, before. on a beach. there should have been fire, but there was only ice. a hole, but nothing devoured. decomposition, but no silence. that madness was loud. there is something I am meant to be doing. another dream I am meant to dream...
                            the eyes are blue. always blue—

..but I told him not all stories end happily, so perhaps he'll understand.
                                                        and die with a smile.

The lullaby