let me go,

into the depths of nothingness staged out,

like a fleeting thought

in a mind rushing to express

this solitude scaled up

to an altitude Icarian,

trying to gaze

at the shimmer of that peak,

unreachable,

lost in the platitudes of today,

and maybe tomorrow,

adrift,

lost to perfection found in dustbins,

and madness imagined,

yet misunderstood,

a peak some would reach,

in averages rhyming to notes chosen vaguely,

and lines falling,

cloud-like,

upon that same, plain, old surface

of expectation, unseen.

(inspired by the sounds of ‘Nagorno Mist’ by Vusal Zeinalov)