A shadow eclipses my horizon.
Immensely foreboding,
yet for something so great,
so swiftly fleeting.
I raise this weary head,
yet find the path ahead clear,
freed from obstruction.

Perhaps another trick of the mind?

They say a tired mind can be unpredictable.
Can't you , dear....
Oh , expensive?
Ah! But you misunderstand.
It would seem once again,
we ourselves are in discord.
Alas....sigh.

Here we sit alone , lonely ponderings.

A knock from outside.
We can remember extending no formal invitation,
yet of course etiquette demands of us.
Thus heavily we arise,
to greet once more society.
Who by no fault of it's own,
other than human nature,
has condemned us to dwell,
here within.

Yes? Hello?

The corridor outside lies abandoned.
Our visitor,
like these incessant whispers,
arrives at his own behest,
of course.

Slowly we close
once more the door.

As usual our memories reshuffle,
once again.
This interruption partially clarifies,
our usually coloured thoughts,
with a minor distraction.

The little things in life.

Chill spills through the open sill.
How could we have missed the hour?
What time is it again?
Oh yes , now I remember.
Didn't it stop working yesterday?
Or was that the day before last?
Ah , does it matter anymore?

A watched pot never boils.
Pot? What pot! We have one?
Oh for sooth! Never mind!
Ha! How true do my words ring through.

Yet once....
where there was strength in purpose,
now but a plethora of vagaries.

Again the cold air blasts in,
unceremoniously uninvited.

How rude !

Even in our eventide,
we still recall decorum from our youth.

How they instilled those insidious ideals!

Flash of light in the distance,
thunder sounds like.
Or perhaps that crack came from within.
We are getting on now,
aren't we?

Fluttering,

Flap! Flap! Flap!

Tap! Tap! Tap!

A crow alights upon our sill.
That mass of jet blackness,
peers in on us odiously.
Eyes sharpened without wariness.

What is it I say?

You forebode of illwill in some cultures.
Has your master sent you to reclaim us?
Our hour is almost at hand.
Is it not?

Caw!

Indeed my friendly feathered messenger.
You think we see you as foe?
But nay, say I.

Dreamt of you we have.
Glorious ages past.
At least there is a hint of such a thing,
ruminating in our whithered magnificence.

But you wouldn't remember would you?
Your own intentions are the one you refer to.

He grows impatient,
for the pleasure of our company.

Does he not?

The way you move about incessantly,
tap, tap, tapping,
surmises it so.

You fear him also, we do too.
Yet not so much,
as we happen to frighten ourselves.

Even our own shadow oft times,
startles our sorely berated wit.

You are so very much darker than mere shadow!

A church bell tolls in the distance.
How poignant, the other one should decide now.
Remind us, what a lifetime's spoilt toil,
has condemned us to.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The nurse arrives,
aglow in faultless white radiance,
a blemishless angel -
His herald.

To the other she says.

Shoo! Go away nasty thing!

But tis a temporary reprieve,
as well we know.

Fare thee well! Bitter-sweet succour.

We shall meet again soon enough.
The mouth of madness has foretold it.

Thus, in a previous consultation,
unto our unconcious sentience.