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