Why not...

everything
and
nothing-
held
by words
painting
deeds
picturing
people
and
things
invaluably,

perishable
thoughts
muzzle
half-hearted
almost-perfect
slurs,
queued
through
moments
when silence
was
the only
decent
end,

there it is,
or was;
or was it...
is this
that feeling
they warned
us of
yet never
told;
the truth
behind
the vale,

hints-
of love
abandon
for any
weary enough
to claim
themselves
this prize of
atrophy,

why not...
catch on,
listen
while blood
and smiles
reconcile
between syllabled
punctuation,
feelings
wean themselves
from thought,
thinking only
hurts when it breaths
and being
became
the nothing
everything
never
fathomed
to be,

~Deus fortuno