Unending Waltz

There is a hollowness: Shape without form

Hallowed and concentric circles splayed against a canvas

Deep red, veins in hand with epitomes and documents of what has ceased to be

What was leased to me?

A dying light in fragile arms?

An art amidst your victory march for me to chase; for me to run?

For me to torment you and I until we fall again

Amidst a calm and cooling breeze

Amidst our spiritual dis-ease as our shadows stretch across the land?

This is the twilight of my very oeuvre, or so I fear

I fear the end is near, as though time itself were befit by grace to crawl and to walk

To seethe as fit with entropy

But, surely this is but a heinous vision?

The order is so very apparent, still

Order out of Chaos

I feel as though I’ve fallen short

The myriad of misanthropes I’ve slain and had reborn

The rising tide of shedded skin that by my hands was wrought

The countless names and faces of a destitute

And witless being all discarded by the Way

O’, what a pity it may be to balk at one’s mortality

For within but a blink all is naught but dust and ash

Soil and smoke, oil and water

And the whispering of the winds

As they propagate the flames

“Still, a temple stands amidst the smoulders, does it not?

Did you not think that the Pilgrim’s Way would be fraught

With the trials and the tests of your hopes and fears laid bare upon the rocks?

What great cowardice is on display, with your writhing and your self-dismay!

Are you a man, are you a mouse?

Or are you but a foolish child

Who’s come to cry out in the middle of the night?

Or is it that you’re divine?

Born to live and born to die as the waxing and the waning of the tides

Have you come to cry?

Have you come to revel in the imposition of your Exile?

Tell me, Pilgrim

What is it that you seek?

Because it’s all so simple

Can’t you see?

O’, what are the chances

That I would come to see with such great ease?

O’, so blind and weary, perspective seems so out of reach

O’, what are the chances

That I would come to keep a realisation held so near

And deep for more than a day?

I might find balance

I might find ecstasy

But I won’t

So as it transpires, I’ll go the only way I know

To the sea, to the song

I shall be lured unto the rocks to fall and to fail

To seek to no avail

This dance, I’ll do no more

Of time’s unending waltz

I’ve sought to no avail

I have tried and I have failed

So, this dance I’ll do no more

Of time’s unending waltz