Perfection

By Sukunami Taka

Moonless nights fall into eternity,

The face of stark,

Blankness….

Is of perfection.

I walk the streets,

At night,

The coldness blowing,

Across the littered ground,

Paved gravel,

With each slow step,

The crunching stones mark,

Tiny scars………lashing through,

The dreamless nights,

Depriving me of sleep,

Where is the screaming coming from,

Where is the pain that reminds me of this face,

That is of perfection.

I have fallen,

Screaming,

The wings have yet to catch me,

Solitary rooms given the shadows playing,

Light…………darkness,

Hidden images of the child,

The prison just beyond brightly colored wallpaper,

Have the little stumped petals open yet,

Gazing with eyes of the face,

That is of perfection.

Alone, whispering voices,

From the perfect people, so wanted, so together,

Against me.

I feel the wrecked torment growing, singing,

The screaming has not stopped,

Letting me fall,

From the side,

I see the face, that is of perfection,

Staring back, blankly stark,

Paleness against the night,

Stunted wings have yet to catch me,

The face of perfection.