Thrice Blur
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.
