When the cold circuit connection is cut,
My healing vision is anything but.
Swirling and morphing my galaxy falls,
And it whispers a name as it spreads through the walls.
These secret formations that laugh as we blink
Are not my inventions as I'd like to think.
Their founder's become it's own galaxy's prey,
Whose light cannot reach me, but someday it may.
The planets sit still as the sky is revolved
And the people grow dizzy and nothing's resolved.
But some stars will flicker long after they're gone
Like the other cold circuit our feet tread upon.
Copyright 1992 Zach London