When weapons are best left on boards short of
Clues were found in the dimly light hall
that lead to the obsolete tunnel
Having left a lovers lane where owls hide within hollows
Where the carnival obscures and creates a escapes
keys that they kept spinning in a lock now digitised
To a ringing phone in a numbered room which cannot be reached
to speak the forgotten question marked card
Watching a evolution in mirrors That Can’t reveal
what’s behind you.
As skeletons at the keyholes view a room of tomorrow
as the hanging drum beats the moon out tonight
Direction obelisk silhouettes
Light box shadows to a dos prompt Sleep.