Whispers In The Dark (Poetry)

Life has sunk into obscurity — these lines
nothing more than whispers in the dark
repeating — going over distant times —
remembered fun — what seemed back then a lark
seems foolish now and frivolous — inane
when bright lights beckoned — promised fortune, fame...

But the closer that one gets to things that glow
the quicker disillusionment sets in —
proximity allows the flaws to show
the dazzle fades from brilliant to dim
the future only glitters like a star
when viewed from youth’s perspective — glimpsed afar.

Life’s better out of focus — slightly blurred
its imperfections hidden in a mist
frayed edges indistinct — so softly furred
reality flows dream-like, visions twist
and flicker like old movies grainy-grey
plotless now, just running day to day...

Hope is the stubborn blip small on the screen
an echo of the twitch somewhere inside
nostalgia for what was — or might have been
persisting — that faint voice won’t be denied
rhythmic as a poem written deep
and mumbled over in the realms of sleep.

Age is a shadow-play as time unreels
dull drama — darkness waiting in the wings
Fate directs whatever mood it feels
there are no rules — one old illusion clings
soothing worry any way it can
’til “exit left” finds Death’s cold caravan.