Filler

I want to paint
in broad sweeping strokes
the image that is tormenting me
the perfect feeling
from the land of dream
makes my heart strain
as an animal chained
to touch it; ever ephemeral
where a fleeting fantasy outstrips reality
pale before death's horse
the soft curves and firm and gentle promises
mingle in my seeing-glass pool, in the mind's eye
within reach but out of grasp.

The myriad visions all to no end
but culminating in a want
a heedless unknown want
it rends the flesh of the mind

There is a mad crone sewing
a quilt foretelling the future
fragments of dream pierced and folded
filled with the sweet down of nothing
threaded with the eyes

When all happiness is cast aside
hearts are filled with nothing
but an empty knowledge
that nothing is nothing
and laws draw our lives.

Reality is the cruelest joke of all.