This world

It isn't rocksolid .. our world!
and the fissures are there
for all to see ..
 .. open wounds,
our bleeding hearts;
like the broken wings
of a Falcon,
hunted in flight!
Our world ..
of shattered dreams,
and unkept promises,
lost hopes,
insentient desire,
deafining silences ..
.. truth be told,
our world ..
an empty house;
a house of broken window panes,
and worn out doors;
decrepit,
chipping off at the edges,
walls tearing apart at the seams;
struggling to hold themselves
together,
a roofless house,
cast like a dark spell
upon haunted nothingness ..
.. putrescent wilderness
reclaimed by rot !!

A world
held together
painstakingly
between two pairs of hands;
held together
precariously,
like the notes of a forgotten song,
like a memory,
like a dream,
like a melancholy refrain
floating upon the
dead waters of existence
in the wistful silence of a lonely night!

Love ... marshy waters!
Quicksand ...