These Past Years: Years Past These

Footsore and phantoms
-my life spins on-
sounds enchanting lay me to the ground
laying me down:
Nothing so sweet
-as the sleep that creeps-
in silence I steep in a coffin laid neat
upon imagined linen sheets:
I saw him with no objection
he saw me with no expression, just depression
it hit me like a terrible wave
upon me which had strayed
but it was the music that almost put me
to sleep.

Many great deeds laid thereupon
-they weighed like a ton-
in an imagined lawn out in the sun
a terrible pun:
There it lay
-where I once did-
to this day I am not rid
of the life without a lid:
I apologized
for my demise it hit me like a terrible wave
upon me which had strayed
but it was the music that almost put me
to sleep.

Incredibly tired
-someone called me conjecture-
I only looked higher for true confession
and lost myself in lecture:
He held my heart
-how could it end this way?-
as he holds a part of me to this day
even as I decay:
I saw him with no expression
he saw me with no objection, just confession
it touched my mind
and it did grind
and this is one reason
I stayed awake.

Sanity prayed
-it felt like I�d be crushed-
in the hush I thought I�d die
crushed like some bothersome fly:
I am blind and
-"I�ll tell you like it is"-
I am mad and I missed
the way life pleasantly fizzed:
I saw him with no protection
he saw me with no perfection, simply recollection
the thoughts seemingly fade
these thoughts that were made
by no pretense
but to keep me awake.

I stood(or floated)
-behind ivory towers of time-
from my throat came a whine
as of the baying of wolves, the end of rhyme:
He found me dead of voice
-I was dead on occasion-
whether it was choice or invasion
I couldn�t have been more craven:
I saw him in truth undefiable
he saw me in falsity undeniable
there was nothing so sweet
as the sleep that crept
as the falseness I beat?
I finally slept.


Penned by my hand on the 19th of Artificium, in the year 422 AD.