Keeper Of The Flame

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 Twilight's Last Gleaming


The flowers of the fields have no beauty to tempt,
Appearing to be disheveled and totally unkempt.
Clouds are mere motions myopic in a pale blue.
The thrill has been removed from all that I do....



Years have flown by like tumbleweeds tumbling.
Voices no longer speak, I only hear mumbling
From the mouths of those pretending to care.
Pretending to hear...at their faces I stare....

 

Colors of the rainbow all bleed into each other.
Distances are so far now, I no longer bother
To go anywhere at all that once mattered to me.
After all, a bush is a bush and a tree still a tree....

 

All the ladies of the town now look withered and gray.
All are worn out exhausted from the games they play,
And the menfolk as clueless as the day they were born.
The looks on their faces seem so sad and forlorn....

 

Words fail me to tell you how the young have gone wild.
Each and every one into the courtroom has filed,
The line stretching so far my eyes start to fade
Into the hole of society that so many have made....

 

From trash to treasure, from riches to rags,
From wanton pleasures now festooned with flags;
I can see only flashes of my innocent younger days.
Innocence passes, and lovely lasses...old age stays.....
      



Jan 3 2008



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