A Time to Live
In the darkness of the sun,
I contemplate the shadows,
and sketch your portrait upon a blackened palimpsest.
When the night falls at last,
I’ll see what I have drawn:
only shadows on the canvas dropping down into the west.
Every time I gaze into the stars’ shine at night,
I’m reminded of you:
the way they glow amongst the dark.
But when the stars topple down
and are extinguished from the heavens,
I can only ask myself why our love was laid to rest.
What is love lost?
a rose upon the vine,
withered in the sun with only thorns left behind.
Or is it a masterpiece,
constructed over time,
stenciled and then colored in, pictured in a frame of mind?
Everything it seems,
regret turns to perfect,
and makes us contemplate what could or should have been.
The beautiful burden of thoughts
that turned you into an angel,
when even God knows that we were both born in sin.
So please forgive me this:
The musings of a leaky pen;
but even the darkest ink couldn’t drown these thoughts of you and
me. Somewhere we’re together, perfect, until the end.
But in the end I realize, we’re only perfect in my head.
A Clock Tower.
Time in a Bottle.
Regret and Ecstacy.
A Double-edged Surface.
I Sit Staring at the Clock,
Hoping that it Will Disappear.
But the Only Thing I See are Sands,
Slipping Down the Bottle’s Neck.
Moving Towards the Bitter End,
Or to a Life that Never Ends;
To End: To Begin Again.
The Grand Spectrum.
Title: Nothing and the Grand Mosaic