The End is Dear

I approach sunset
My shadow fleeing from me
Like some wild spectre
Stretching, grasping
Clawing through time
And the dirt
I’ve already tread
As though one shadow to another
Clasping, scratching
Could reanimate the dead
Or wind back the sun.

Behind, pale bones picked clean
Neglected by hollow ghosts
Empty promises of youth
Immortality and boundlessness
Lies of passion, hubris, myopia
Haunting formless night
While everything worth having
Walks in bare feet
Leaving tiny toe prints
In the dirt
Facing the sun
With a gait that spins the earth.

My eyes seek
Smiling light warming my nose
My dancing fingertips
Shining forth grace and purpose
Shrieks in my wake,
Twisted, dying distortions,
Use the obscurity of darkness
To belie their value
Joyfully I march
Through the dirt
Chasing the waning rays
Reaching out to catch me.

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