The punishing room roams
Occupying my surrounds
Silent guitars sing lessons
Of support withheld,
Pan handling people
Musically malevolent in their absence
Time awaits no mare
The clever and callously compassionate say,
As the encroaching king tide
Laps at our once luscious and luminescent hope,
Tomorrow keys will return to the quay
Of power and privilege
And alone on the deck I shall stand
Bereft of you