fading is a common theology

Siren song
by matt freire

there's this ringing
constant ringing
medic told me to enjoy it
because when it stops
i'll never hear that tone again
the sound of the fading
the hum of the damned cells
the tone that soon for me
will be
non existent
existence is resistance
and sustainable movement
and the death lullaby in my ears
drifts me from contentiousness
to rsvp at a large banquet
a never ending table is laid out
in a massive and spacious building
where everything is feng shui
yet surrounded by people that annoy
where saffron tickles the nose
and congregations click with upturned stares
through the windows can be seen nothing but static space
darken urban deserts
that no one cares to ponder
because the feast is always about to start
stale food is the appetizer
and bad re-runs play on a jumbo-tron zeppelin circling the room
too drunk to stand
too sober to stay
or is it the other way
speechless I am
to the words of their tongue
a gloated pride murks
and contempt is at its utmost
startled I wake
A blank sheet of electronic paper illuminates the room
a small coalition of bugs hover around the light
0400 hours
but for sanity's sake
4 a.m.
There's this buzzing in my ear
airborne insects are attracted
to the death hum
to the siren's song
my hand shews the fliers away
and I cover my face
peeking between the light
breaking though my fingers
placed to the now
the place shall remain undisclosed
almost fading into decibels not audible
by any senses

fading is a common theology
in an every-day minute
and every other second
a tone will come and go
to the songs whispered
by names not known or unknown