Memory is the bane of impermanence, and impermanence, the enemy of memory
His salivating eyes dine on the beforeward and afterward, hungry for what was, never was, and shan’t be
Straining against the current, he’s awash with sins of the past, for to take away the pain, would be to suffocate
Survivor’s guilt for this one, who undeservedly exists; while the living embrace the breadth of his present wasted
His bridges adust, trembled under the weightlessness of quotidian, phatic chatter; threatening, promising, a benighted isolation
Thus, overmorrow or what then follows, he awaits the numb of decay and sublime windchimes to perturb his silence
When finally, behindhand, whithersoever he lies, he shall relent
art: (untitled) by Zdzisław Beksiński
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I don’t know why.
But I usually get attracted to such themes of poem .
And your blog’s full of it
Very well written
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