Through self-imposed icy steel bars
of discipline and principle,
I stare from within a cold, humid chamber of mind
decorated solely by my autographs.
Wavelengths lost in space
every so often seem to touch
a receptor or two,
as signals of impressions emanate
from an otherwise dark, eternal abyss.
Through self-reflection, panic rises – a vision
of guilt and question,
in all that has evolved…or might…
as my signature dries upon each moment,
while nothing comes from you.