Sunder

Outdated soul

clinging onto its dissipating fancies.

The act of sounds in its embrace

Shriek down-along creaky

passageways of the self,

sullen, barren, one light

ushering the pilot through

murky alleys he pushes to inspect.

The site was mute,

damp concrete elevated every step

bodily functions heard,

and thoughts were the last companion,

combating meaning that never arrived.

The sum of a loving soul,

unabashedly forgiving its fancies

for coming up short with impetus,

left the pilot in a state of disarray,

and confusion.

Predictions of panic began to appear,

breathed at speeds that dried up the ground.

Protrusion remains until that embrace is severed.

The fading halo of the pilot 

is for him to comprehend

and continuously search for its origin.

Its beginnings were fair and joyful;

honest and of pure intention.