All-Seeing Aren’t the Eyed

A curtain’s descent occurs without sound;
nothing to announce the stifle of the shroud.
Gauze veils annex the sun from the forlorn,
and a murmuring to muzzle the mendicants’ mourn.
All so light abounds, we must dwell with clouds;
gliding through contrails on the borders of a storm.

The city walls are laid for the solace of the few
who live between shades of saturnine blue.
Banners proclaim it to be a sanctum of elevation
concealing the nature of psychic amputation.
The discarded truth, betrays a glimmer of abuse
as light was turned away from the covert sequestration.

All-seeing aren’t the eyed, who daren’t turn eyes upon the blind.
Sightless aren’t the blind, transcending the limits of the eyed.

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