Untitled Poem by Adam Hollingsworth

In
The mind
All in all what a sight
For tonight we sleep alone for
Sightless visions in/out lonely homes
Speak quietly for the time has arrived to despair
Quarrels and hatred have found envy in the most scares.

Speak within to hold it to precious, precarious red gems,
Not a sound, movement, or the tiniest sin.
Drawing a line for logical influence,
Held still, and lost of failed air.
Ignore it and behold,
Another reason
Lost to our
Time.