a hollow fireplace 1.1

i go to house, where

in the empty fireplace

burns fire in an image of contraire

house has no fire or grace

everything i say is a lie

if only i’d try

i lost my will to myself

in the muddy puddles stuck in my shelf

i know i'm going crazy

but in your eclectic awakening

my being is hazy

images of the lost ring

accompanied by the heart

which shuts itself in

the glass window, where your art

lies among my tainted kin

in slow dizziness it's fading

where is it going

i can’t see the stars

in my displaced forgotten rhyming

truth only becomes colors as

that is all left

among the flowers which i can’t see

i see nothing right

birch trees might die here

i listen to my life disappear

inside the comforting crackles of the

empty fire, where

can I be here

the warmth of the fire

smooths my past

like the breath

i see when the cold encompasses

my outermost soul on my eyes

why is it over

why know

the bird-tree droops in sorrow