To sleep, to dream - the death, the void? The screams, the screeches, the sounds and noise. His eyes, wide open, stare unbroken at pages unwritten, stories not spoken.   The petals are red and blur like water. Hands can't touch, can't hold, can't love, for all they are is steel - I falter. Where is music in the realm of blackness? Where is someone in this lost place of happiness? Happiness - if steel can feel it - is not the word, but this world breathes it.