> Altitudes <©>

It's not so much that morning started late,

later than usual

yes, faith will I, Friday's and Saturday's and all

and this quote, though unusual,

fits the movement of mood as it shifts to recall

 

a spellbound night, over hills of dreams in flight

dark it must be said, hears best of all

through it's pitched colour one is pierced

no sooner bought than ready to forestall

all of life's fluidity sluiced

 

now sullen lowland mists offer-up

this foretaste of autumnally-wished reticence

for the operatic needle marking a question

it's blood answering...to no less than advertence

under the cloak of anaesthetised profession

 

where hope is coldest and despair most fits

it was said for comedy's stage

yet tragedy feels closer and covers my skin

with that slice of fear turning the sharpened page

I no longer know which drama I am in

 

another chapter is almost out...of candlelight

the one that foretells the dead of night

flickering my mind's shadow 'pon the ceiling

that transfiguring thunderstorm conducting an inner fight

for all it awakens is the vigour it is stealing

 

now wax gives way to moonlight

a teacup in the atmosphere of the dream that sips

the translucent illumination of what's the matter

disablement now throes a daily eclipse

so you see, greyed is my view from hopes spinal shatter

 

it can no longer stand, no, no longer stand at all

routine? if it exists, acts the reaping thresher

beating-out my very will, thrashing my last bet

gee-gee power let down badly by diastolic pressure

this hell sure is making me sweat

 

now a genderless air thins till my breathing can marry it no more

gasping rings too expensive to inhale

every exhalation is pricelessly free yet bankrupt

all at the expense of a heart beating to no obvious avail

where does it end? when the penny drops, it's truth is so abrupt.

 

by anglia24

11h30: 05/09/2008

©2008anglia24

Done