what did you find in death’s twilight kingdom?
sometimes when i close my eyes and focus my gaze,
the dark creases of my lids i enter:
i see myself
amongst the muted, hastening crowd.
the Painter paints the Kingdom
with a palette of blue and black,
the sky and the silhouette.
the sky: pale blue before the sun sets
the darkness of the approaching dusk
held off by the day’s last, split-end thread.
us: the black, the many, the silhouette
we have no faces to identify ourselves
except by our common chain that keeps us
hidden away in the kingdom between two worlds
in queue, we wait, to be wrung
we did not know (we did not want to know)
the permanence of our dye,
we painted our own skin.
(once, i heard a whisper, i wished for a syringe
to draw the pleasure out of poison,
than be left in this prison)
a chant echoes in the minds of the
subjects, swaying with the wind:
we are no one, we are no one
we are no one until we’re gone
we wait, in death’s twilight kingdom
for the clock to strike us into dawn.