For Tariam

On cold, crystal spires

In deep desperation

Lies the man,

Alone and so stoic.

His mind – scientific

And thirsty – unbound,

Unwound by guilt,

By the guilt he ignores,

Is feverish, cold,

Is maddened and broken

By exile

And dreams of dark things.

He builds to ignore it,

And the currents that hum

Ring in his ears,

A numb sound that mingles

With crystals that sing

And lightning that dances

To the music,

And he laughs along,

Caught up in the moment.

The crystal bomb sits

Neatly in place,

So painfully organized.

He touches it gently,

Feeling its smoothness,

And slowly smiles –

Another step closer

To launching his plan;

Escaping this place;

To freedom sweet!

Experiment successful.