‘Her Name Is Red’ by Andrew Bradford

I recognize nothing from my past, less still from my present

Toss the cold earth upon me and leave me to be silent

Some will claim it was an act of God, others will merely chuckle knowingly

I turn each page as if led by a force outside myself

There was a time years ago when one could feel safe

Now it is nearly impossible to discern the madness from what is deemed reality

In miniature, you can see the world spinning just as it always has, always must

Angels draw near to me, kindly tending my wounds

Such overwhelming and crippling awe

Suddenly struck down by the power of utter implosion

Leave me, forget me, let me be, pass along

Abruptly in early morning

The dew falls heavy upon the tombs

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