The Mind is a Box

 

The mind is a box

Of infinite size 

Somewhere to rest

When closing your eyes 

A telephone exchange

Of forgotten calls 

An ocean contained

Without any walls 

 

A wilderness lost

In the tiniest space 

With time stretching out

At an ever-faster pace

Recognising nothing

Whilst nothing calls out 

Silence delayed

And muffled throughout 

 

Sounds of the past

No longer of use 

Gone but for flashes

Of split second youth 

Becoming less relevant

As bodies decay 

But erupting like birds

On the very last day