She lies there with her past

Mouth open wide
Head to the sky
Tilted at a side

Eyeballs roll up
Towards her scalp
Dust on her hair
She offers a tacit prayer

As her whole shell
Concaves
Her hollow mind
Becomes an empty hallway

Sending echoes
From her footsteps of self-pity
they swallow her, they follow her
Into eternity

Waiting for death
To consume her past
As guilt keeps dripping
From the upper bulb of the hourglass

Her thoughts are sand
Shifting uneasily, she knows
When the bulb runs empty
And so shall her soul be


Inspired by a picture from the Geographical Magazine on 11 April 2007 and written on the next morning.