My eyelids close, like . . .
          Iron doors descending slow
          grating against a rusted framework
          corroded sockets, spiral vision blurred
Now I see
          the connection to the abyss
          aerial incursions, thoughts collide
          collaborating, outrageously to the End

So in times of worthless reflection
          I close my eyes only to see a burned out sun
remembering the divinity of Mother Nature
          an influence, too uncompromising
          amusing ? Depends on the fading color
          or the scheme you're under

Look for symbolic shields

          " Protector of the modern myth
            I come before you
            bearing a world of nothing
            in exchange for something
            that means anything, anymore
            anything at all ? . . .  or not

Now in the loose summary
             of a story not yet complete
             there is an inch of dust and crust
             over the braille

I envy the blind even more
              for they can touch my words
              that I can no longer feel . . .