I walked without the laughter of the children
I felt empty, and so alone, the world may have ended
Please tell me I am wrong? I cannot see!
There seems to be an empty space in front of me.

Yesterday they were here, I heard them so
Please tell me what has made them go?
I cannot see it's hard for me to listen to emptiness.
Just tell me I am wrong and it won’t be long.
Before the children return.

A new look:-

All he does is sit all day
before a window looking out,
what little hair he has is gray.
I wonder what he thinks about.

That window fronts on a small wood
there behind the nursing home.
He'd love to walk there if he could
as in his youth he used to roam.

But he is stuck in his wheel chair;
a stroke and bad hips keep him bound.
His eyes tell he'd rather be out there
beneath the trees on shaded ground.

in a foggy fjord
a monk, turned warlord,
was starcrossed
by a second fate
rightous victory waned
like cold crystal diamond fire
in the big blue ice

cue up despair
like a bitter old man

like the three sorrows
that are Jerusalem

like dark houses
in mourning and rembrance

time for the big empty

wait!
a plan
a daring escape
impetuous
but, for him, as inevitable as death for all others

The narrative of the occlusion speaks
in the name of god
and judgment reeks of the heaven-sent.

The eye turns inward.

How can humans be so deluded when
they possess opposing thumbs? The
monkey hurls the bone and as if
scattering ants on an ancient tree
ready to break out in war
we choose our side aided by
the
complexity gene,
patterns within patterns within
nothing at all.