In perfect sight I see what’s come to pass.
You look at what has become of me proud.
If only there was a route through time, fast.
It’s passing waits for no discussion now,
Of its illusory being. Refrains,
From malicious temptation? Indifferent.
We’ll forge on alone beside mans best bane.
Though a companion of ours, unpleasant.
In fear or pride we think it’s forgotten?
Who would remind death of our numbered days?
And at the door of eternity, one,
Perhaps would ask what’s this last toll to pay?
There’s nowhere else to go but through the door.
Here time won’t follow, you’re alone. Go forth.
Posted in Life and death, Sonnets
Tagged bane, companion, death, door, eternity, fear, follow, poem, poetry, pride, sonnet, time, toll
Colors out of shadow reminded him of her face,
Which time in its indifferent boredom has tried to erase.
Her eyes stared at him, or did they look away?
There is no penance for this regret that I would be able to pay.
She left behind shadows and took with her his heart.
That was the last thing with which he would depart.
And just like that, there he stood with nothing left to lose.
His foolish pride and selfishness were the cause he did conclude.
Now every night before sleeping, the shadows meet his gaze.
There he hopes to see the colors that remind him of her face.
Posted in Life (or something like it)
Tagged color, face, gaze, heart, left, lose, poetry, pride, remind, selfishness, shadows