Then Her Voice
Shook awake from a
dream I cannot track,
senses plundered by the
violence of dawn's crack.
Wondering about reality's illusion -
the degradation I have seen.
Cacophony of excess
in surround-sound,
a filth and grime that collects
yet is unbound.
I question whether it
is worth the pain -
then her voice breaks soft and clean...
"There is still…