Diminishing
Not to touch
what was once touched,
never to see
what was once seen,
or failing to realize a feeling
once fulfilling,
creates a void in the soul,
a ghost within,
meandering throughout
the darkness of the heart
to slowly empty
fond memories
collected throughout
the pitcher of years
those endeared emotions
grow damp and indistinct
with each attempt of recollection,
the webbed caverns of recall,
falling prey
to the acres of emptiness
passing years present
even as the fading light
strives valiantly
to illuminate
Final Exit
He wondered how his final exit might occur,
violent and heinous
or silent and alone.
Would crimson brilliance dominate
with intense pain
in red rivers of helpless realization
or will each breath dwindling
sleepily shorten
in a count down toward final drift off
in life’s conclusive irony.
Might images which plagued him daily
finally evaporate
or eternally bound his fleeting soul
which would rise and fall
or hover about the room
till retrieved by an unseen host,
opening doors to unseen worlds,
perhaps exiting
through a starlit entrance
in a reversal of fortune,
no fanfare accompanying departure
as he might drift
amid the moon and stars,
twinkling indifferently
to his arriving vapor,
revealing no secrets,
and might he realize the scene
to describe with poetic intensity
or will he float endlessly
as a gaseous haze
above the lugubrious whimpers.
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