Light shines into the windows, the ghost’s of conversation revealed
while the living remain alone. Here the pall of silence is deafening.
Shadows stalk what was once opulent and alive, while desperate lives hunt.
Luxuries redefine themselves, and necessities become all the more precious.
Conversations once common, muzzled with masks in another’s presence.
Earth continues to spin undaunted while her tenants become still upon her shoulders. She closes her eyes while tears stream; she knows why they freeze.
Bright leaders are terrified while cruel leaders are horrified. Reality has popped and the bottle will remain uncorked.
Yet it is the sun that remains unfazed. His radiance passes through the mountains, and through crusted windows I can see the world.
It is quieter.
It is discomforting.
It is not hopeless.
Writing in C Major 