the wailing

petty words from the tongue of myn
seep though the walls of stone, earth, mud
keeping the whispers, the mute eavesdropper
listens without hearing the silent reverie

as dew trickles from each crease
kept in the bosom of bitter secrecy
silver drops of an untold story
the dream of a star through the eye of a brick

the sands of time cover the fissures
and lay there unseen to the cosmic titans
yet the hands of the north wind sweep
the sands fly off to the heavens

left naked, cold, and deeper than before
crevices moan along the songs of midnight
silent verses of an untold story
the dream of a star through the eye of a brick

and there written, in the blood of a child,
“it is as it is, as child is a child.
sacrifice is sacrifice, as yesterday is today.”
it clots for tommorow, through the eyes of today.