by Cecil Vernon Crumrine
Live long enough and you?ll fill up
the nothingness with no more than a dry wind
that pirouettes and furls itself
into a crackling ball of fire
blackening a once virgin heart...
For the future is gone -
a mere relic of ghostly thoughts
and relinquished dreams;
of the lost luster of silk that graced
satiny legs that were once my salvation...
where time has been spent;
having unleashed a death mist
that suffocated life into utter darkness,
that immolated beauty and truth;
that drowned hope and love.