|Time to Fade
Author: Small Wings Flying PM
At some point or other, every name is going to fade. There's no stopping it, no matter how one tries to fight, or move ahead. You're going to fade, and so am I. The difference is I accept it.Rated: Fiction T - English - Words: 570 - Reviews: 7 - Favs: 3 - Published: 03-19-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3006362
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Most of you probably don't know me, but that's okay. Plenty of time for that. I'm not much of a poet, and my not particular spectacular attempt will probably tell you, but one of the reasons I bother is to try and improve. That's our main goal in life in the end, if you go down to it. To get somewhere. To walk forward. And we all know one cannot do that by themselves. So any comments, thoughts and/or critiques will be welcome. I honestly don't mind what you say as long as you're honest...and are ready to answer a list of questions should the need arise.
So that's all from me. Except one tiny question. Anyone know why this Document Manager resorted back to the old style formatting, ie. using HTML codes for page breaks, bolds and what nots? Because my ffn. account doesn't do that.Anyway, please enjoy, and tell me what you think.
Time to Fade
The sun rises upon the horizon,
Coating it with yellow daffodils.
The night sky flees
As light permeates above,
Rays pushing the darkness away
To make space for a new day.
At midday it sits above us all,
Slowly wearing down the tired backs
Hunched over their work,
Their chisels carving
At sunset, the rays slink back
Into their little hidey holes
And are no longer seen
As the blanket spreads,
Casting shadow over the words
…and the world.
Night darkens. The lights turn off
One by one
Slowly making the darkness deeper
And more absolute.
Words written once,
No longer read
As eyes close…and minds shut off.
The dead of night.
Who lies awake? Except
Those who wait for sleep
To seize them and their soul
Or those who work with
A little candlelight
In a frantic haste,
Despairing the hours lost.
One AM, a small light remains,
Slowly flickering, dying,
Too dim to see the words etched
Upon the page.
Tired eyes try to read, to persist
But every sensible one closes
And gives in to sleep, and wait.
Morning again, the sun shines
But to the same world as yesterday?
Alas no, for which eyes of the night open
To take in the light of a new day?
And which ones remain shut
Having written their last words upon their page
Thinking they'd continue on
Against all odds upon the raging seas.
The sun sets and rises again,
Countless times. Countless cycles.
One day, ten, one hundred…more
The stone wears with fire, earth,
Air and rain, the forces of much else besides.
Words written there once, marked…
Decomposed, crumbled…no longer there.
Bodies buried deep beneath
Where the sun cannot reach.
Therein lie words forgotten,
Eyes shadowed, closed
As the darkness beneath spreads
And encompasses all.
I awake to a new day,
Wondering…is it my last?
The sun dips, taking the price
Of my toils and tolls.
A new day may come,
In which I struggle around the bush again
Knowing the sun will dip
And the shadows cover all.
One day, year or decade
I will wake to find
A world unrecognisable.
Words impossible to tell apart,
Light absent. A world
Faded, entirely faded.
And I will embrace it like an old friend
Because truly…I awaited this day.
This death, where the sun would too fade.