Solitude

I brood. I brood

Like Cold Seas that wait

For the Storm to fall.

Unmoving unrest.

Uncomfortably Unaware

Of what lies next.

I wait and I wait

For Nothing.

The stillness never breaks,

And my thoughts never shatter

Into shards and fly off

As winged Fireflies and Moths.

No one calls anymore.

My disposition ensures that.

As a Statue in a market place,

I am known and yet,

Unknown.

Arms of bronze lifted up,

Carrying the sun on a distant Sphere.

They know my face,

My lines, my features,

As if devoutly studied by scholars of Art.

But who can yet say

That they have seen my workings

The cogs within

Keep meticulous time,

Still waiting.

Still waiting,

For the first chisel

To break through.