Between Prologue and Epilogue

let it burn
only embers await fire
as ashes await embers

somewhere between
kindling and extinction,
prologue and epilogue,
flames and stories
consumed and opiated

a delusion of infinite existence
unbroken by death or irrelevance
covered as dust or denial
the bookshelves of our Truth
the emptiness of our Room

the papered panes
or those covered with the opacity
of disuse and dirt,
let in no sliver of sunshine
on which the Dance of Dust and Entropy
could claim sanity of Decay,
that inevitable nemesis of Perpetuity -
the perpetuity of Conceit,
the perpetuity of a phantasmagoria
called Life

let it burn
so what?
so what if we left the water
at the edge of our desert
so what if in the end
ashes cover the sand
and the extinction is of ourselves
and not the fire
the fire that consumed everything
everything that was worth it
between Prologue and Epilogue