NaPoWriMo 13

Unwritten words hold
fast but slow music
perimeters of thought

what if the mind
retreated to a place
forgotten as one

who knows a language
not unlike this here
terrestrial extra

magnified by doubt
a pasture of plexiglass
clouds move in

along the shroud
covered bleaker streets
sirens swell empty

this dream of life
each day is a night
then a lifetime is gone

a very very mad world
as chords break
into singular notes

strung together to make
a whole of silence
and words form around

echoes of old songs
singing open windows
cold and broken

hallelujah