They tell me that, “Life goes on,”
but I believe nothing of that,
I have seen the first leaf fall from the last autumn,
and I have heard the thunder drums of shining reality.
I have watched the last hungry leaves dance to the fury of tomorrow,
to a place where no autumn comes.
This time it is different I feel a strange heartbeat inside my body,
and it is like the world has given notice
and asked for holiday entitlement to be brought into consideration.
The symphony of time and, “Not yet will those measureless fields be green again!”
Our wreaths disintegrate on our headstones silence.
The shuddering groans of what once was,
with no tunes to dance to.
Our meeting will now be in vanished vapours,
where even our identity is disputed,
as we make our way through broken glass.