Some kind of poem

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Posted by Don Pearson UK ( on September 18, 2001 at 19:20:12:

I found this today. One of the worlds is yours.

“It’s life, Jim, but not as we know it.”
(For moon-watchers from three worlds, none of which supports life as most people know it.)

So, now, the eye is sharp,
no complex views,
all those decisions,
left behind.
The lies, the truths,
the loss and the loves
have no more meaning.

That elastic future,
decades, years,
sometimes yet unclear,
worked for, dreamed of,
in faith and of joy,
is beyond your reach.

Even on those bad days,
you stayed the hands,
the hours, minutes, long
to survive,
when life was stretched,
infinite, you thought.
The sands are ebbing.

This pain consumes your soul,
wastes all your strength.
You are wracked by night,
sleep stolen,
demon’s torment.
What belies inside
that brave face you show?

The tears that you once lost
for those you loved
are cast in the dark,
no comfort.
Where is that love
you gave to others?
It has no power left.

There are no futures here,
no time ahead,
no paths unexplored.
There is pain,
beyond endurance,
death’s time, time’s death.
What fear your hopes now?

This is the midnight walk.
The darkest hour,
clear cut, needle
scream-sharp knife.
Will time resume,
given time to breathe,
be reborn at last?

Sep 18th 2001

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