I was wandering through a lonely black tunnel
The sound of 'To Live is to Die' ringing in my ears
My thoughts loud whispers trying to be heard.
And yet the distance was bleak, a shadow in the past,
The future's glimmering ghost waving from afar.
Is this, the present, what I worked so hard for?
A labour without recognition,
A depth of expression passed off as folly,
A momentary lapse of consideration
for the artist in the moment
- any moment -
Making do with the muse that presents a pose,
Lightweight though she may be,
Better than none at all.
This moment captured,
These words raptured,
Hangman prose stature.
But as the tunnel grows longer
I notice the darkness itself glimmers,
A call to respond: this song is over.
To live is to create, to die is to be done;
If nobody hears, so the song shall be sung.
Silence be my laughter
An age of pain remembered,
Words still form from this crafter.