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Senility
The rainbow of reason ends
With a pot of gold and jabberwocky.
When hippocampus dwells in solitary,
silent,
eerie,
forgotten dormitories
of the expatriated mind.
In planned visits
To familiar spaces,
When elapsed faces are still hailed with fervor,
and hasty,
eager,
vivid candor,
As though they had never gone.
Deep in thought
In cavernous bowels tangled lost,
Remote repartees recurring restlessly.
Cautious,
wary,
and ever leery
of echoing footsteps anxiously nearing, as though someone might overhear.
As even eyes fail to mirror
The twilight of past vigor,
Speaking in feeble voices muddled beneath walls,
beneath walls,
beneath walls,
beneath walls.
Walking politely in ancient, and empty, imaginary halls.
The stars stop still and unfleeting
Listening to last breaths, and the heart’s last beating,
To hearken timid last words from the past's last illusions,
past apparitions,
past veritas
past delusions,
Where celestial alae still go a-flutter with lost aspirations.
When the frail hand that once held and sheltered
Cannot even rattle dandelion clocks,
Or crush delicate imago wings into dust,
and caress,
and feel,
and touch,
Save for Elysian veldts
Where the rainbow of reason ends.
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