aging...

Chafing these journeyed eyes with words,
Sounds that comfort nor soothe not,
I clasp irate lids resolutely with rusty rings,
Just to sieve the light that youth brings.

No use, kindred. No use, I assure you.
These eyes still can see, if only hazily,
The shadows relating the sorry songs
Of the lives we left unlived in our lungs!

Confused, our seed won't dare dream;
Spoiled in the calm of clean cool pools,
Soiled, nurtured in the cesspits hither
They flower, blossom and wait to wither.

These weary winkers they waveringly witness
Entombed scandals discarded at life's banks,
Our offspring trudging pointlessly through dead streams,
Whistling in the wind verses of haunted dreams.

If only you knew, youth, it's just a silent breath,
And you too can see the broken moaners on life's carousel,
These who once upon a painfully forgotten memory
Peacocked about with ignorant arrogance in ceremony,

These who loudly proclaimed the flimsy plumage of youth -
For they too used to be beautiful, nectar dripping in each smile.
They too were mindless and impudent and invincible
Until dependable time arrested them at life's crucible.

Alas, at sea today, they manifest as mere mourners,
Wailers dutifully wishing on an anointing rhyme,
A disappointed stream with no intentions to flow
Besides backwards the pledge of promised woe.

No need to shed scarce tears now, dear blood.
These eyes see...faltering crawling shadows
Draped in veils of random aches and invisible tears,
Their indwelling dignity eroded by wasted years.

Rubbing my eyes with thoughts for momentary relief,
Guiding frail steps on a path strewn with discarded egos,
I succumb to the unapprised certainty of my progeny
All reason usurped by thieving time in its eternity.