The Spool

Awash in deathly silence, apart from the world Let me feel something, the nettle's sting answers Frail fingers bend and stiffen, imagined scars open The pain hums and yet you don't cry out You try to hide, in a labyrinth in your mind With no path to retrace, seeking darkness where fear cannot manifest You wither in silent misery until the lull ceases Until the threshold collapses Revolutions reaffirm the familiar, never too far from the spool of monotony Breathless atop majesty, yet all I feel is my beating heart and tired breath Never move too far from the spool, the spool you resent Immense vaulted ceilings envelop burning hearts and baptismal tears Awe of another form now wilts inside and you wander Through faith and fervour with eyes open but it does not take hold To raucous world you return and the longing remains to be alone Awaken disorientation, pale curtains sway gently It is not enough to draw these, I must see and think Lend credence to the world adorned and step out of the shadow A familiar sensation takes hold, feeling returns that had been lying fallow I feel it all, each breath, each swallow The sting, the heavy heart, the stomach sinking I feel myself festering, withering To still this pounding heart, my eyes seek the wool To fear I submit, and I return to the spool