Askew my sight
Sense I cannot make
Blurred by the opaque
To glimpse through the haze
Is to see on through the clouded maze
Through fog the frail memories
That rest beneath the Linden trees
When I tried to speak
I caught a thistle in my throat
Tears stung my eyes
I could say no more
The words that you spoke
You lit the fire of my funeral pyre
Like narcotic smoke
Swirling my skull
The black flames did rise
I could say no more
Askew my sight
Sense I cannot make
Blurred by the opaque
To glimpse through the haze
Is to see on through the clouded maze
Through fog the frail memories
That rest beneath the Linden trees
Behind these sightless eyes
Images evocation can’t procure
Those that the dark iron bars obscure
The thousand-yard stare
As I blindly observe
That left unwitnessed by ocular nerve
A faint image flitters
I will say no more