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The shutter opens but never closes,
I am waylaid, in light trails.
Endless moments, overlaid and burned across a melee of scattered braille.
This image is a night-terror transforming,
Without the hope of morning.
My nemesis, I feel it coming for me, and it means to destroy me.
Why does this keep happening?
I try to close my eyes but I can't blink,
And the world keeps moving on, black and white blur into one.
Hieroglyphic, indecipherable, opaque;
The meaning escapes me.
Dry and lidless, are my eyes - asleep, awake - reading the slurred debris

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  • u
    UnregisteredOct 2, 2011 at 6:13 am
    About all the family troubles Thrice as a band were having before recording. It was based of an email Riley sent to the band when his and Ed's dad died.

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