{ shadows on the lake }

Because I knew the truth,
  the world lay open to me,
  strange as it all seemed.

The evening was aglow, I remember,
  with possibilities;
  the trees had lost their leaves
  just as I was gaining mine,
  and the etchings in the fading sky
  were dissipating like distant smoke.

But even in our clearest moments,
  we see ourselves like
  shadows on reflections;
  the colors of our joys and
  attendant griefs, swirling around,
  passing into the dim like
  shadows on the lake

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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