by MT


The clouds that collect the winter rain
Dissipate to reveal the pale blue air
The gravity of the gray clumps give way
To the white balloons with shining rims

Mercy is the name that resonates
With sights cast upon infinity
Nothingness that amounts to agony
Consuming the calibrating mind to ashes

Yet the reign of the equivocal afternoon sun
Travels through particles and dusts
The table that holds the cups
The lot that holds the cars

Is it not deception that reality fails
Upon the faltering steps of the clock
When we walk on a path that erases itself
Leaving annoyance to laugh at no one