Sliced in the Rhythm of Night
A Twisted Verse by Matthew Tonks
Think, then revise—a piano set on edges built of nothing,
something more and something less, a shape that keeps becoming.
We give, we go, we speak too soon, as yesterday lets go,
and all tomorrow’s empty songs repeat what we don’t know.
We think and lose and think again, and drown inside pretend,
as winter, summer, autumn, spring all circle without end.
Their fevered nothings rise and fall, the echoes we distort,
the fragments of a truth we chase but never can report.
Wisdom lost behind your back, a whisper you ignore,
disrobe the self you think you wear—begin again once more.
💬 Did this one echo?
Tell me—before it forgets your name.
—
Written by Matthew Tonks
→ Read more twisted verses at mtonks.com
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Twisted Roads - Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks 
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