I will try to fix you

A black mass, divided by squares of light
this oblivion
The scarlet screams
That caress the nothingness like velvet sheets
Soft in that emptiness that hears nothing
For eternity, silence
There are no stars,
Just four rays of light
That hold the three fates
Who live in thisrealm, or silence
Their threads fall soft between the ever moving sea of their fingers
The colors pulled into a beautiful tapestry of life
It is hard to believe that that curtain of strings
That moves through those fingesr like water is
a life
You never know who's
the colors and the weaves bare no names
It could be yours
But a life is waved all the sime
growing to a climax that no one sees
A life is made, and destroyed
in that dark and cold space
And here you have come to plead your life
To these women as they whirl
Life on their little spindles, of fingernails and curling fingers.
And as you do, you see the scissors
That cut through life as if it were nothing but air
The thread snapes and is cut
And now they grab yours and begin weaving
Ever weaving these hours as you sit before them, working without hearing.
The here and now, the after and the before
All caught in colors and lights
shades and darkness.
Then they turn to you at long last
Never hearing your cries to them,
never hearing those pleas toward life
To them life is not sacred, it is meerly a story that is weaved.
And an old hand raises, and there the scissors lay
And the weave snaps, the final thread cuts.
Time and death wait for no man.