Deeply introspective images of an inner landscape
barrenly, quietly, screaming for truth,
honesty and self-love. Hope is faint,
not feign, but fading, falling
as the last petal of a scorched rose.
The tower of psyche, the last bastion of ego,
crumbles in a wash of acid tears.
Still, what remains is tomorrow.
A new sunrise
buries the night freshly rinsed in despair.
It is a glorious sunrise.
Watch her burn!
SS Matthews improv