And Shadows Move

My pride is gone, and I’d like to rejoin
The dust I came from, here beneath my feet;
The cold and empty waste, our common coin,
Is laid before me like a question sheet.

I shrink before annoyances each day,
And grow in insignificance at night;
I keep on going, but have lost my way,
And I’m not sure that I’m up for the fight —-

For echoes crowd my mind and haunt my dreams,
And shadows move where once the light was seen;
I gaze upon both commons and extremes,
But it’s too much, it’s all too byzantine —-

  The universe is as it ever was;
  The dust will take us back, it always does

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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