The carapace has cracked, though the surface
where the light bounces from seems clear, serene

lies an undertow of wrongful fire, the tumult know
nothing of.  It reflects in their eyes.

Though tough, it gave way when he gave in,
unsettling crystal and miles of thought.

A perplexed form emerges, once pondered complete
‘from the outside, yes‘ it bitter-quips, smiling.

Crawling out from Umbra’s deepest shade, it recites
the sounds of the waves to invoke the dawn.

It is because of this sun I remained in the shadows…
shutters closed in a sound proof room.

Emerge. Colored wings sprout from nothingness
chasing shadows with light set back a decade ago.

Tilting chin up, blue mirrors reflect heavenly passing
as if musing some puzzle it  just  concluded.

Shifting tongues, he let fade the drowning sun
Au Revoir, Le Doux Cauchemar c’est fini…

Untithered, drops the feeble form that burdened
his wings.  Something was coming, some torrent

it beckons, draws him close but he was willing
even if it was some strong force he hasn’t seen.

I am tangible because of this northward moon,
which shed new light and fire…

for when it came:

It caught me between a half-breath and a sigh.

Right now; I am broken blade of grass,
that floating cotton thing you wish on when caught.
A castle from a deck of cards. Give me an eddy. 
I’m swept; it takes little to be blown away.

the load that i bear is lightened

I am a loose compound of loose molecules with
uneven atomic charges that won’t hold. When
stuffed  to a beaker of sorts.  Turn on the heat
and watch.  It takes little to break me down.

defences are compromised

Later on; I am a jumper on a ledge. A stopped
car on green.  Opposites in heat, on a bed come
night time.  At thumbtack on styro.  All it
takes is a little push, to go all the way.

a little nudge that is all…

I am wheel.  A cabbie flagged on the wrong side.
A car on a one way street.  The prodigal son
refused. A lover denied access.  Major’s blowing
the whistle.  It won’t take much to turn around.

though I still try to resist

Don’t be nice, it’s not much to be mean. Lesser
still to frown… and it’s easier to be angry.
I’d rather you do all those things I hate.
Since right now; or later on, I’m easy to break.