Finale (Stream XII)
What is what
And who is who,
So where are we.
Are we where we want to be?
Ah that's the thing,
The thing that intrudes.
An intruder,
The silence roars it,
Unseen it's there
Separating us
This wall of glass,
Makes us mute.
We drift apart,
A space between.
We cannot span the gulf.
Islands we drift apart.
Fall apart.
We are divided
And divided we fall,
Fallen out of love.
Falling through the void
Into the cold blackness.
The coldness of indifference,
And all that's left is the silence
Which roars.
poem by Paul Brookes
Added by Poetry Lover
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