I sought for that which has been denied to me

the years peel from my mind in a watershed of heady recall

taking the present to an image of gentle surrounds

where eagles soared carefree

when little else mattered than languid summer days all strewn about

in no precise order for time was no issue back then

Now , time is all I have left

never ending days of darkness and summer mean only

sunset calling an hour earlier than winter

while I watch passersby cajoling with young love

or friends planning afternoons lazy by a beach tides ebb

generating a tan upon olive skin

so foreign to this porcelain shroud I call mine own

This is when you cannot reach for anything warm

for a knowledge that you'd only submerge it in a smother of pathetic decay

and I left decadence behind eons ago

as those I once knew with fondness found final rest

still there slumbering for all time

each so often I'll visit and wonder what was it like to shed tears ?

Good is a relative to bad

as black is to white

but I am those shades of grey ever lingering in between the two

not an exact composition of either

surpassing simple explanations when you become time itself

thinking becomes an art of trading dispostions over centuries

till you become an observer of history

a piece of legends and your name turns into a myth

I often wonder in abstract now

trying to reason beyond and above why

hoping there is truly some greater purpose amidst all

if I should outlast all which is a possibility

just maybe god which I've in part met

or satan who created the original who made me

and even a third party whom I suspect exists

will deliver some supernal sermon and explain

in distilled form what I represent

then finally lay me down upon my bed of roses

and I'll sleep a peace of lasting slumber replete .