Splashes Of Cello

in the walls

of the mazes

of your mind

colours blind me

purple splashes

hummed by the cello

are sliced

by a single

lightening-streak

issued from a violin

red is the shade

of your blood

that you

wish

you could have spilt

and black is nothing

just like we all

will be

one day

carried away

by the muddy smell

of pigeon feathers

sniffed

a decade ago

i know the words for the shade that you see

as a host of evil butterflies

are dispersed

by the holy light