Dreams of Naught
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This part
the debut
of my golden era
So many years
of labor from
but a child
continue
The senses fade
Waterworks rush
to precipitous edge
as I study the fall
and its consequence
My eyes are dimmed
Cognition fades
I grew my tresses long
and luxurious
donned a gown
on a body
wanting for nourishment
but love is nowhere
I find no reason to celebrate life
This was last chance
Dreams of travel
are no more
I know not
where I belong
The future
falls from view
My heart finally
weeps through
faded windows
Hope seeks hope
as this frame
crumbles to naught
I simply am.
My spirit stands
as a robot
awaiting commands.
Maybe this
is finally
my purgatory
for having loved you.
Copyright © Robin Harville | Year Posted 2020
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