Not Even Death

and here we are
yet living
on this eve of lost idyll

i am no more able
to feel your touch
than sorrowed skies retreat

the passing hours
grow ever darker
my lair has turned to dust
unsettled

roaming on this plane
alone
in search of any senseless reason

the more i look
the more i find
my mind is but a distant ruin

littered with the consequence
of time’s relentless ire

as truths unravel
by its hands
extending far beyond
the grave

where now
not even death
can stand to save us

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Eternal Mirrors

let the earthen bounty
be your pillow
as the balsam breeze
tucks you in its whispered lull

tonight
our frailty
is forgiven
heaven dare not fathom
to assail us
whence we lay

its offerings
are present
for the taking

as prismed apparitions
through shifting crypts of time

searching for the shadow
of forgiveness
where folding stars
outstare the eye of jupiter

death is but a fear unsound
thought traps within
the silent walls that bind us

stepping through
eternal mirrors
on journeys shared as one
‘neath these precious suns
of stoic tempest flare

Furtive Moons

there are only so many metaphors
that serve to justify this pain
so many words
chewed up
and spit back out
onto surfaces
whose purpose
carries all burdens

these feelings are like water
journeying alone
in a fearless freefall
crashing into the earth below
to join the fates
that all have known

still, each fragment
leaves its mark
for others to embark upon
in the hour
of our exodus to exile

the skies belong to one
as one to all
as life itself
bleeds into the eyes
at the horizon

we take our tragic pittance
wrought from anguish
each within the alchemy intrinsic
to their own

to spin the loom
and weave majestic tapestries
of triumph
to share the secrets
intimately held
by furtive moons

The Silence of Forever

my spirit longs
to be the stars
that fill your sky

my heart would shine
reflections
of its truth

to lift you
up into a realm
where solace
sings redemption

that once
you laid upon me
by the mercy
of your kiss

but even vigilance
has lost its vested path

these broken roads
no longer
reach epiphany

as apathy
alone
absconds
with wistful dew

i thought
would one day
compose a river

through the valley
whence our love
had rent the earth

that i might sail
those tempestuous waters

in search
of where the willows
wept your name

but all my efforts
toiling at the pulley

have only returned
buckets
of morass

wrested hands
from years
of untold callous

now leave me
to attend
this ghostly shore

where sorrow comes
to lay for death
in prostrate

with arms
of clay stretched thin
succumbed to dust

once sought
to sway the forces
of the cosmos

with hope
to never stray
from its embrace

as mountains
birthed of mirthless
apprehension

would vanish
into the silence
of forever

Time Control

Time doth taint the faint of heart
By painting truth where once stood art
And shining light in corners dark
From ancient moor to morrow’s hark
Perception forged with dawn anew
The day’s deceptions drawn to view
Our misconceptions now construed
With every moment thus imbued
So hapless are we to contest
The trappings of its false arrest
We must abide by its behest
Beholden to our sown duress
But only with its presence nigh
Doth life exist within our eyes
It must persist lest we devise
A narrative bereft of rhyme
We struggle to appease its ire
Befuddled by the muck and mire
This force of nature ne’er retires
The nomenclature of expire
At best, the past and future stations
Merely are but speculation
We have only one salvation
In our present indignation
Futile flights of fantasy
Flown by fools on fated eves
Found fast the path to effigy
Forged by the wrath of flippancy
So when the tower’s bell doth toll
Sing loud its reverie with soul
Think of it not as time control
But that by which all life unfolds