Lost Pieces.

Alone at last with the violins crying to me,
they shriek while falling down the wells of disaster.
An echo that slowly fades it's way out of existence.
From it's beginning and end I lose all my sincerity,
and in between? I'm forgotten.
The black walls don't seem to have an end,
questions of, "Where am I?"
How come I don't know why my eyes see what they saw,
when trying to recollect anything to remember?
Nothing seems to work,
why try to piece a puzzle when you know some are missing?
Trying to put together a picture out of what I have,
I see me falling down a well with black walls and falling violins.

9/29/11
23:59