Electron Madness

 

Time turned the dull wheel 'round,
rubbed salt and sand in a tear-stained eye
full of dust and storms and hate and wars,
reaped a harvest of sights and sounds
and silences too great to bear.

 

Night cried, too. Its lonely call
awoke dark, slumbering memories
of mind-numbed, wasted hours;
hopeless days lived in vain
while innumerable sidetracks
led downward to a desperate end
wherein reason was obscured
in meaningless translation.

 

There, in the current of vision,
flowed electron madness.
The fuse was blown and burnt out,
its circuitry reduced to dust.
The machinery had begun to rust.

Where once life moved unceasingly
through chrome-bright, glistening vessels,
one piercing note shattered the whole.

Sand slipped through the hourglass
and piled up at the bottom of a void.

Days fell and reeled at the stroke of time,
yet fleeting consciousness escaped,
and no essence lingered in the emptiness
of what once was vitality and existence.

 

In darkness, nothing else remained
but dying embers of spent dreams
that lay, smoking and smoldering,
scattered throughout the ruin of sanity,
and crumbling walls gave way
beneath the dead weight of reality.