the transient twilight

MUSINGS TO THE OTHER REALM

Distraught pages flutter
Out of my hand
Into another’s----
Perhaps of my own ilk.....
Or may be not;
Lost blues,
Diffused yellow,
Stark uncompromising red
Beyond the beyond of every
Horizon----
Beyond the realm of
Your crimson light(?)
And beneath old lost loved
Harmonies,
I live, in some oddly
Crafted daze of a
Night not to be,
Of a day not allowed.
Light shuns me.
Darkness returns me and mine,
As I look around for
A blank destiny----
Unnamed, undeserved;
For a drizzle of living
Life----
Perhaps another of
My own ilk----
No, I think..... too far, too unreal
To belong;
Too sphereless, too universal
Perhaps;
The pages still flutter;
And take my breath away.
Me and mine
Are distraught.....

posted by the transient twilight @ 10:49 pm