Poetry

Fade

Are you still there?

There are reeds that swim through
Fogs of whispers,
Above swamps of waste once water clean,
Fragile handholds among
Discorporate fumes and muddy fugues.

A man treads there,
Chancing passage over fleeting platforms
Vaguely remembered.
An outstretched hand to fleeing memory,
A searching foot to fading remembrance.

Behold the sky, a crimson mirror, broken.
Red shards descend and
Reflect the nightmare
From a thousand mocking times and angles,
At once the past, the present, and a future no more.

The world flees itself,
Infinitesimal points in mutual repellence,
A universe of thought thinks itself undone,

The struggle ceases
And again he asks:

Are you still there?

All that is now falls apart, and
The man on his deathbed to death succumbs.

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