Endless Shadows

When the shadows ascend,
as the night is reborn, he lies
with her, although his want
and need lies far away - there,
within the eyes of his one ever
living, loving fantasy.

The love of heart was spent by
his own choice on make-believe.
Forbiddingly, he woke again,
before the dawn drew near.
Not wanting sleep and dreams
to go away.

But there she lay. His wife,
his cross, his suffering. No longer
could he lay the blame on her.
For once upon a time, he chose
to love, within reality.

That was then, before the tomb
was sealed. How could it be
his hand, his choice - to seal
himself within the density
of walls that offered nothing
more than darkness...?

Yet this is all he faced within
the starkness that descended
upon him. For he knew the one
he really loved was suffering.
And too, he knew himself
to be the cause.

No matter strings of thought
or all the length of alibis he chose
to live. Still, his love of her beheld
the only depth of meaning that
that he'd ever come to feel. And she
was gone, by way and want
of his decree.

What would he do with all
the memories of that one love
so true...? A year and more,
yet still, he craved her in a sense
that drew its strength straight
from infinity.

When was it that he'd come
to feel so weak...? When there,
with her, he'd felt as if his strength
could conquer anything at all.
But no, he couldn't think of this
right now. Not in the hours of
darkness that arose before
the dawn.

Forsworn, again he chose
to honor history much more.
Even as the now led to the
ultimate of emptiness and death.
Promises, once lent in youth
would not elude him here.

Yet still, how could he come
to question the decisions
that his history had come
to bear on him...? Could it be,
perchance, that now, an aching
wisdom stole the heart right
out of every living memory?

And yet, from where, and how,
and why - would wisdom try
to thus enlighten him...? No,
he must not let these questions
ask themselves again in him.
And so he tossed and turned
within a depth of self he tried
so to deny.

Yet the shadows ascend in an
endless appeal - and they seem
to have no end, as night is reborn
within time and there, within him -
and then into another endless
day of make-believe - that leads
once more into his suffering
and all the endless shadows
of a past he never dared to feel
at all...

? Michaelette ?

4/18/2002
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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