There is no explosion.

The nothingness haunts me
Like a screaming firework
That never meets its end.

I wait.
And there is no explosion.

How do I expect a life
To come from ashes
That drift like fallen leaves
Of smoke?

The winds blow where they choose.
I have no choice.

Alone in this paradise
Of lonely paradox,
I am sent scrambling to the safety
Of my personal bed.

Blankets shield my head.

I want peace inside my ecstasies.
I want joy to pervade my homestead.

1.31.19