A Lonely Disposition.

Look not into the haze,

for what is it that you'll see?

A stark dot seeming to float

in a translucent sea.

Look not a little closer,

for what is it that you'll feel?

A raw awareness unwinding 

in a sliver of film reel.

Tip toe not a little higher,

for what is it that you'll smell?

Something disastrous unfurling,

attempting to compel.

Sink not a little lower,

for what is it that you'll hear?

Silence - harmonised with

an ensemble of truths ringing clear.

And after all this,

what have you come to comprehend?

I live in a world of fear,

my friend.