Away From the Lighthouse

By: Manus Wong

Grey foam, white mirrored beams ---

The black continent beckons me.

Pockets filled with stones,

Ears unwaxed and heart asunder.

Silent songs serenade searching souls 

Into vaulted histories,

Buried beneath primordial rock, with

Martyrs and grave men, melted

Wings and wicked fruits.

Dark perse jaws,

I can’t help 

But   sink,

sink,

sink…

~~~

Falling,

I remember,

Into their glassy globes.

First shaking blizzards,

Then ageing echoes: 

Pending promises, before sickly 

Sighs. I waited ---

But Godot, you never came. 

I am unsurprised, 

For no one remembers,

Only I. 

~~~

Purple sunken eyes

Chasing prancing shadows 

On grayscale walls,

My limbs, 

They rest on the opened drawer

Where blue pills and blunt blades are kept. 

Enisling silence, 

Unrippled

By steely shivers. It seems,

They had defected 

Once again…

~~~

Listen, listen ---

That elusive tune, it frays my thread. 

Two pricked eyes, one stray foot.

Walking on until water

Turns sand. 

Now, 

My friends, 

Will you remember me

For my deathless 

bravery?

© Manus Wong, 2022.