reflections
are my last refuge as I
grow weary of the doldrums
and peps of nowdaydreams

unknowingly
life oozes from my being
its wrinkled tracks leaving
as I pull out the reserves
lodged in my cranium 

to rejuvenate worn-out spirits
thus I enjoy soirees focused
on youthful yester chivalries
when life was boldly chased
sans the snail-paced trek

of this wearied traveler now
my singular longing: re-quest
of the chalice that runneth over
with wounded reflections
multiplied ten-fold as I
begin to stagnate into captivity.

(On the other hand
captivating is one's sunset
germinating into another sunrise.
A cycle to immortality!)