Flickering images- light and dark,
Shuddering from the deepest part
of what I am.
Memories of a detached past
Filter down, sliding into my last
moments on the earth.
A woman grabs a beaten man,
And within his haunted eyes she can
see all that he fears.
There is a lifetime of annihilations,
Dark threats of everlasting evasions,
and all caught in amber amidst the devastating speed of time.
NO--they became two dancing people,
Their movements ever slow and feeble,
but reaching for the light.
A valiant life viewed from a mountain top,
They are beautiful, the images that drop
deep into the mind.
But they, too, slow, and come to a finish.
Bright, sharp images always diminish
at that final end.
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