Silent imaginations, he thought
One would feel the dead in the nothingness
And the nothing in the dead,
Never mind the vibrations
When imagination steps through
The veil of reality, the reaper’s shroud.
Once inside the grimness, he finds
Horsemen dreams are radical nightmares.

There’s a Silver Lining,
Same shade as a skull
And all these Safflower thistles
Can’t plug the bullet holes
Garden of Amaryllis blooms
Soaked in blood
The Spearmint does nothing
To freshen the air
It’s Showtime, sold out performance
Nobody wants to be there.

The dread orchestra crashes
With deafening cymbal clashes
With walls of crunching guitars
And horn blare hammers
Synthesized strings tie up a heart
Hanging it in the arch of a harp
Electronic cues try to beat life
Into a pulse that’s gone flat
Noise that will not cease
Until choirs of silents voices sing
Leave a message.

To tap a green button would stop the noise
But break the floodgates holding back the tears
And what good what it do to confirm what’s known
Because there’s more than one life on the other side
To cue the orchestra again.

Imagined silence had already drug
A soul disparaged by
New thresholds of human evils
To the bottom of these emotional seas
Not one thought forewarning
The darkest lesson of reality
In the ultimate weight
Of a loved one’s hopeless hoping
Creating nightmare noise