William J. Jr. Atfield | + Follow Poet |
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A Shroud

A Shroud

Eyes of Autumn green, permeate the serenity of my skies.
Our worlds, they seem to be stone cold – impervious to my silent cries.
With each encounter- every passing moment – something dies
within – for what is within may never take wing – nothing flies.
This day – in the air -  hangs heavy, vailed with oppressive sadness.
It is this hollowness, this emptiness, that i seem to want to caress
with my thoughts, my feelings, all causing such excruciating stress
upon this life, already blanketed by a deep  darkness, a bleak abyss.

Fate – she be a black hole – this exquisite lady that devours
my heart, my soul – yet seldom and only for a few hours –
during our brief moments, yet my spirit soars past the bowers
as I come to realize, believe that nothing  beyond, flowers.

This beautiful garden I see, seems to be made of stone,
preferring to leave me sterile, lost and alone.
Desire – what a mate she would be – such a cruel fate,
for she leaves us, shipwrecked upon the shore, with a full slate 

of all the years that have gone before, not a light to be shone
upon a possible future, no future to break at early dawn.
Our worlds, you have separated with this heavy curtain
leaving me wondering ?, guessing ?, so very uncertain.

Ravenous is the monster !!!, as she eats away at herself,
and us of age – time – we will never be putting on a shelf
for another day, so best be taking hold of every opportunity 
- smell it, taste it, feel it, savour it and be what we will be !
The moments that are given to us, let us not let them slip away,
let them live, give them a full life , do not wait another day,
for life passes, so quickly away, moments come but never stay. 
To know what you will not give, this is what I pray !

B. J. “A ” 2
November 2nd 2006

Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield | Year Posted 2015

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