it was very strange
in an abstract kind of way
pastel painted faces
formed on polygon arrays
where nights are bright
and dark are the days
rain runs like rivers
of silvers and grays
slivers of time splits
in shifts gone astray
and I feel as if I’m standing
still in the middle of a ballet
between the valleys
of valiant valets
where they park
all the chariots and sleighs
and it is still very strange
in a negative kind of way
where faces have no faces
just 2 tone bones in x-ray
all my thoughts collapse
in cliché thoughts I convey
on the ins and outs
of what my mind inveighs
where I wish to wake
from the waylay of today
to end the dreary dreams
that drifts to my dismay
that maybe, just maybe
someone will hear my mayday
and come to my rescue
no matter how risqué
and we will walk willingly
away on the causeway of denial