Fortune's strange face eludes me in my sleep
Crawling fears of tomorrow
The shroud has now been sewn
A sentry guards the keep.
Forms in black lace, body beauteous, frail
Musing doubtfully, I wake
New Age, post-modern, credit phone
Recycled minds for sale.
Tomorrow's grace still calls, ever fainter
Stillborn desires whispering
Seagulls scavenge shattered bone
Chill sunshine of winter.
Yesterday's race, challenging reality
Amber lights in dusk-lit streets
I know my lover waits alone
Long, close embrace, velvet-draped windows
Hidden panes of broken glass
A path well tended, now overgrown
Hide well in the shadows.